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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28588824">Look at the World So Close (And I'm Halfway To It)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoYouEvenSiriBruh/pseuds/DoYouEvenSiriBruh'>DoYouEvenSiriBruh</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ResidentHesitant/pseuds/ResidentHesitant'>ResidentHesitant</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Emotional Manipulation, Fairy Tale Elements, Found Family and Finding Family we got it all folks, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot Angst, Ghostbur, Inspired by Tangled (2010), Light Angst, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mild Blood, Minor Violence, Non-Human Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Past Character Death, Prince Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Prince Toby Smith | Tubbo, Survivor Guilt, They/Them Pronouns for Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Thief!Ranboo, Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit are Twins, Toby Smith | Tubbo and Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, TommyInnit Has Magic Powers, y'know the compasses? yeah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-20 12:27:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>42,931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28588824</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoYouEvenSiriBruh/pseuds/DoYouEvenSiriBruh, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ResidentHesitant/pseuds/ResidentHesitant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ten years ago, the youngest son of a beloved king was taken from his nursery in the night, never to be seen again.</p><p>Ten hours ago, a powerful magical artifact was stolen from the castle, with the eldest living prince chasing after the thief.</p><p>Ten minutes ago, a sorcerer left his home, his protege left alone for the day.</p><p>Ten seconds ago, a very bored teenager, hidden deep in the woods, heard people outside his tower window.</p><p>(aka: the tangled au we've all been thinking about)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Ranboo &amp; Technoblade, Ranboo &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>137</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>784</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Usual Morning Lineup</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>chapter title from "when will my life begin", fic title from "when will my life begin (second reprise)"</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ranboo was having a fantastic day. Never mind the old wanted posters or the weird looks the guards in the palace were giving him. He was a guest, after all. It’s not like they could just <em> arrest </em> him while the literal eldest prince of the kingdom was protecting him. But said eldest prince wasn’t around. He had a meeting with the king, and Ranboo was all by his lonesome, in a big castle just <em> filled </em> with treasure. Surely, Techno wouldn’t mind if he had a look around. Just a quick look. A peek, if you will.</p><p>Admittedly, he wasn’t the most inconspicuous. He was very tall and visibly not human, but neither was the prince, so, big deal. Not being human had its perks, though. Like limited teleportation. Like how he was able to wander into the treasure display, look curiously around at the busts of previous kings and queens, meander towards the center display, teleport behind the guard, steal the younger prince’s compass, and teleport through the door on the opposite side of the chamber. Ya know, small perks like that.</p><p>He’d heard the story. Everyone knew. It had been a legend before it had become reality. Once upon a time, long, long ago, a drop of sunlight fell to the earth and landed in a secluded clearing. From the sundrop grew a flower that was said to grant health and youth to all those who encountered it. Its energy was so strong that it warmed the grove it grew in, the snow never touching the ground. The leaves on the trees stayed full and the grass stayed evergreen. The energy jumbled up all diviners, and all enchantments meant to find hidden objects. One had to know where it was or had to stumble upon it to be able to use its power, and those who knew were often selfish. </p><p>The king and queen were beloved by their people, as were their four sons. When the two youngest princes, twins, were born, the kingdom rejoiced. This joy was cut short, however, when the queen and younger twin fell terribly ill one winter. The physicians tried everything, but nothing worked. In desperation, it was suggested that they find the fabled Sundrop. Search parties went out immediately, countless hours scouring the landscape for this flower. As the days passed, the queen and the youngest prince’s condition worsened. After several weeks, a group of scouts encountered a grove in full bloom, green in the dead of winter. In the center of the clearing sat the Sundrop, glimmering golden-red in the warmed air. They dug it up and brought it back to the kingdom, but by then, it was too late; the queen had already been taken by the sickness, and the youngest prince had merely days to live.</p><p>They brewed the flower into a broth and gave it to the prince, and within the week, he was well again. The magic of the flower had worked, and the youngest prince was back to full health, running and shouting through the castle corridors as if he had never been sick. The kingdom mourned for their queen, but the boy would live to see another day. </p><p>The youngest prince proved to be quite the troublemaker, in contrast to his more quiet twin. The magic of the sundrop almost gave him too much life. Visiting nobles often believed the elder twin had been ill, due to his quiet nature. But the wild prince wouldn’t let the confusion last for long. He’d run through the castle, proudly proclaiming for all to hear who he was. He stole from the kitchens and scared the horses, wandered off into the town and got lost often. The eldest prince went to an enchanter, asking to make two compasses, powerful magical artifacts, that always pointed in the direction of the twin princes, so that they could always find one another. </p><p>Three years passed in relative peace. Shortly after the twin princes’ sixth birthday, however, this peace would be broken. Some say it was a group of kidnappers; some say it was a lone actor. Some say they came to steal the prince for ransom money; some say he was taken by wicked sorcerers hoping to use the powers he’d allegedly developed. But regardless of who you’d ask, they’d all say that late one summer night, a cry rang out through the kingdom. The eldest prince had been slain, the second eldest cursed, and the youngest taken. One compass remained on the nightstand, pointing to the prince still sleeping soundly in his bed. The youngest prince was gone, and hadn’t been seen since.</p><p>An item that pointed in the direction of the younger prince, the one almost guaranteed to take the throne once he comes of age, would make for one hell of a bargaining chip. Ranboo knew of a couple buyers who would pay a pretty penny for something like this. He’d just managed the biggest steal of his life, and all it took was picking the pocket of the wrong sellsword, earning his trust, and becoming a short-term mercenary. </p><p>That wrong sellsword was busy doing his prince thing and unable to keep an eye on Ranboo. What a shame. </p><p>The guard standing in front of the plinth whipped around just as Ranboo’s hand closed around the compass. He winked, and vanished in a cloud of green sparks. If the guards didn’t want it stolen, they shouldn’t have left it out on a pillow like that. And only one guard? Amateurs. Reappearing in the side hallway, Ranboo glanced around; no guards, though the one in the treasure room had started yelling. That would be his cue. He took off down the hall, running like hell. He needed to get out, and get out fast.</p><p>Had he betrayed the trust of his friend and mentor? Yes, but Techno would get over it. He’d understand. Plus, it was always better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission, at least in his book.</p><p>Taking a sharp left, Ranboo saw his chance at escape: an open window. Launching himself out of it, he grabbed a hold of the rim and twisted himself up onto the roof. The guards stationed at the parapets stumbled back, startled, even more confused by the shouting coming from the guards still inside. Ranboo pushed past them, not letting them catch up. The cries of “Thief, thief!” would be enough to make them catch on.</p><p>The castle was a grand building, so the roof, naturally, had to match. But all the different sections of the castle didn’t have one singular, connected roof. Currently, he was towards the center of the palace. He needed to make his way to the outer edge of the building, all without being captured, as many guards were already aware of his presence, and more would follow. No problem, not for a man of his skill.</p><p>At least, it wouldn’t have been. Jumping from building to building? Nothing. Teleporting to evade close calls with guards? Easy, if limited. The problem would come from jumping from the castle back into town. The gap from the castle rooftop to the nearest home was a fairly huge gap. But Ranboo didn’t have any time to judge how steep the potential fall could be. He had to make it. It would just have to be a leap of faith. </p><p>With the edge of the rooftop rapidly approaching, Ranboo let the confidence of his current success carry him to the lip of the castle walls. He had his eyes on the roof he would be landing on, and he was ready to jump to safety. All he had to do was not get distracted or look down.</p><p>And, just his luck, he did both.</p><p>He heard a kid scream somewhere below him. He looked, and thankfully it was only some children at the edge of the roadside, looking over the body of water that surrounded their island kingdom. But his moment of relief wasn’t long lived, with his eyes unwillingly lingering on the water.</p><p>
  <em> The cold, sharp, unforgiving water. He could feel the phantom pain of its sting along his skin, making it crawl. Suddenly his stomach had a million rocks sewn in, making the sinking feeling grow exponentially more. Each breath grew shallower, as if the water was already filling his lungs. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, it was deafening, beating louder and quicker to his inevitable end oh gods he- </em>
</p><p>He tripped. </p><p>The ledge of the castle came before he knew it, and suddenly there was no more rooftop beneath his feet. With the ground fast approaching, Ranboo looked at the roof of the home he set his sights on earlier, shut his eyes, and teleported. </p><p>It seemed like luck truly wasn’t on his side today. His limited teleportation really bit him in the ass on this last jump, or rather punched him in the gut, as the edge of the roof collided with his stomach, knocking the air out of him.</p><p><em> That’s gonna leave a mark, </em> Ranboo thought to himself as he slowly slid off the roof and into a wagon currently holding hay. He could keep running in a bit, but for now he just wanted to stop here for a moment. He deserved a little rest. What was he running from again?</p><p>“Over there! Quickly, before he runs off!” Oh, that’s what. With a huff, Ranboo forced his sore body to push itself up and out of the cart. He ran past a few homes and hid into an alleyway, watching from the shadows as guards ran past his location. He knew he was too tired to attempt any more teleportation jumps, so he would have to make it out of the kingdom and into the forest the old fashioned way. He’d done it before with less important cargo, he could do it again.</p><p>“Looks like you really have them runnin’ in circles,” came a voice from behind him. With a definitely, incredibly dignified yelp, Ranboo jumped, whipping around to face the speaker. The first thing he saw was a familiar shirt far too nice for this part of town, white with a red silk sash.  It was then that he realized that he knew that voice. With a groan, he begrudgingly looked up into the eyes of his mentor and friend. </p><p>His mentor and friend who was undoubtedly fucking <em> pissed.  </em></p><p>“Before you say anything, I promise I had a good reason.” Ranboo held his hands up in defense. Technoblade looked him up and down before slowly crossing his arms, leaning one shoulder against the alley wall as he waited for an explanation. Even with his hood up, Ranboo could tell from the look in his eyes that he was on very thin ice.</p><p>“You see, I–” and with that, Ranboo attempted to break away from Technoblade, quickly turning around to run. His second escape attempt of the day quickly failed, with Techno swiftly grabbing the back of his shirt to keep him in place. </p><p>“You really sure you wanna do that?” Just from his tone alone, Ranboo knew that thin ice was starting to crack. Technoblade wouldn’t be patient with him for much longer. Ranboo sighed and let his shoulders slump. He knew when he had been beaten. “I gave you very specific instructions. I’m assumin’ you remember what those were?”</p><p>“Keep my hands to myself, don’t touch anything inside, stay in the hall until you’re done,” Ranboo said sullenly.  Techno let go of the back of his shirt, letting Ranboo turn around.</p><p>“And what was it you did?” Ranboo scuffed his foot on the ground, crossing his arms. He mumbled something under his breath. “What was that?”</p><p>“I wandered off and stole something.”</p><p>Techno pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and sighing. When he took Ranboo under his wing, he thought he’d be more of a mentor, not a babysitter.</p><p>“Right. You wandered off and stole somethin’.” His voice never wavered, still the same monotone disapproval. “I gave you all those warnin’s as to <em> why </em> tryin’ to steal somethin’ would be a bad idea, and you still went through with it? <em> And </em> it wasn’t just somethin’ in general, nah, you <em> had </em>to steal a family artifact.” Techno pointedly looked at Ranboo, the other shrinking under his words. He knew the kid nearly idolized him, but that wouldn’t save him from being chewed out if he deserved it. Didn’t mean he wasn’t stupid. Like right now. Ranboo shifted his weight from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at the man in front of him. As the silence dragged on, Techno decided to take pity on him. “Look. Just give it back, and we’ll leave this behind us. No treason, no foul. We can be even.”</p><p>As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Ranboo knew when he was backed into a corner. He begrudgingly took the compass out of his pocket. Just as he was about to drop it into Techno’s hands, he pulled his hand back.</p><p>“What if… what if we weren’t even?” Ranboo’s voice had taken a new kind of confidence, like he had an idea.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Let me make it up to you.” Ranboo finally met his eyes, a determined expression on his face. Techno raised an eyebrow as he tilted his head to the side, silently motioning for him to continue. “If you let me keep it for a couple days, just ‘til the anniversary, you could give me a chance to find the other one.”</p><p>Techno’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. <em> Find the other compass? </em>No one had tried in years, and they never hoped to succeed in less than two days. Hope for finding the lost prince had diminished every time another party returned empty-handed. They were never even able to find the compass meant to point towards him. There were no clues. What gave Ranboo the confidence that his attempt would be any different?</p><p>“I– I know, it’s a lot to ask, trust to put in me and all, but– no one’s tried in a while?” Gods, he sounded like he was just stalling for time. Ranboo knew that this quest would be a fruitless one. That wasn’t the point. If he could get enough distance between himself and Technoblade he could find a buyer and just... evade Techno for the rest of this life. Or, should he be caught, claim someone had taken it. Foolproof. Definitely. He stuck out his free hand out for a shake. “What do you say?”</p><p>Techno looked at Ranboo for a moment before going in for the shake. “Alright, you have a deal, but,” he said, swiftly lifting his hand away before Ranboo could grasp it, “on one condition.” Oh no. “I’m coming with you.” Oh <em> no.  </em></p><p>“Huh?” Ranboo looked at Techno in confusion. That was. Not in the plan. “But I–”</p><p>“Either that, or you’re returning it right now under threat of, and I hate to say this, the law. Take it or leave it, kid.” Ranboo has nowhere else to go. If he said yes, he would miss his chance at the biggest score of his life. If he said no, he would basically be admitting that he was lying <em> and </em> would also be missing out on the biggest score of his life. Not to mention the disappointment that would follow from Technoblade. With nowhere else to turn, he shook Techno’s hand.</p><p>Truly, no one could be having a worse day than him.</p>
<hr/><p>Today was the worst day ever.</p><p>True, today was just as boring as any other day, but that didn’t mean that every new day couldn’t be more boring than the last. It almost felt like a competition of sorts. At least that would be more interesting than being stuck in the same routine everyday.</p><p>Tommy stared at the spirit across from him. He was taking his time deciding what his next move would be, today’s checkers match particularly intense. They each only had a few pieces left. His next move could really make or break him. Not that it really mattered much if he won or lost, he was still beating Ghostbur by, like, three wins, but winning again wouldn’t hurt. </p><p>The day kept dragging on, the clock seemingly ticking slower today just to spite Tommy’s wishes for it to go faster. He had other powers, why couldn’t time be one of them? Maybe it would manifest one day. He could hope. They had already burned through most of their typical activities and it was barely past midday. He had swept the floors, watered the plants, finished mending one of his shirts, reread his books for the millionth time, attempted to write his <em> own </em>book, everything. Ghostbur suggested games, but they were all so played out. They’d both become too good at darts, Ghostbur never managed to win tic-tac-toe, Tommy never managed to win chess. He even went along with one of Ghostbur’s stupid schemes, no matter how many times Tommy reminded him he wasn’t a child anymore. They had wound up on checkers, one of the few games that they had that they were more or less equally matched in. </p><p>Still, the day seemed to be at even more of a standstill than others. Usually he’d find something that would capture his attention, but today felt different in the worst way possible. Tommy would give just about anything to not be bored right now. </p><p>“Hey! Tommy!”</p><p>Tommy felt his heart stop, just for a moment; he looked up sharply, checking the window. Was Dream back? Already? He must have finished his work - whatever it was he did - early. Shit. Tommy finally moved his piece, barely even looking at the board. He stood, chair almost falling in his haste to get up. He had to greet Dream at the window, he always did. </p><p>He didn’t know why Dream’s arrival was making him so anxious. It was just Dream, the guy who <em> raised </em>him, he shouldn’t be so– so panicked over his number one confidant and mentor returning home.</p><p>“Oh no.” Tommy heard his anxiety mirrored in Ghostbur’s voice as the other got up from his own chair. Ghostbur’s eyes were wide as he glanced around, backing away from the window, his words rushed and high-pitched. “Let’s just– haha– say you won this round, Tommy! Another win for Big T! I’ll– I’ll get you next time, surely, I’ll–” Ghostbur popped out of visibility, words cut off as he vanished. Tommy silently cheered. A victory was still a victory, no matter how you won it. He was doing his own little celebration dance when he heard a voice behind him.</p><p>“What are you doing?” </p><p>Tommy stilled. Shit, he’d forgotten why he stood up in the first place. Right. It’s because. Yeah. He straightened his posture, turning to face his mentor.</p><p>“Dream! You’re back early.” He watched as Dream closed the window and hung up his traveling cloak, dusting off his shoulders as he placed his bag down. He always made sure to bring back food and supplies for the day. It really did show how much he cared. “How was your–”</p><p>“What are you wearing?” Dream gestured to Tommy’s person. Tommy looked down; he was still wearing the paper chestplate Ghostbur insisted he make. <em>A good soldier always has armor, </em>Ghostbur had said, fussing with the paper arm straps, <em>how else would you defend yourself? This is, really, Tommy, the </em><em>first</em><em> thing they teach you in training. </em>Usually he had time to get rid of whatever scheme Ghostbur concocted, but luck was just. Not in his favor today. Dream tutted at him, shaking his head. It made Tommy feel small, the way Dream circled him like a carrion bird. He was, as always, wearing that same green-hooded tunic, same black trousers, same worn brown boots, same gloves. His sandy brown hair was mussed from the wind, and even with his face covered, his disappointment was clear.</p><p>“Y’know, Tommy,” he said, stopping in front of him, “I’d treat you more like an adult if you weren’t always doing this sort of thing. You keep insisting you’re not a child, but I come home and you’re in paper armor? C’mon. I thought you were more mature than that.”</p><p>“But– but Wil helped me m–”</p><p>Dream groaned at the ceiling. “See? This is what I mean. You were supposed to grow out of having an imaginary friend <em> forever </em> ago. And you’re insisting you’re grown up. Come on.”</p><p>Tommy felt his face flush in embarrassment. He turned away, tearing off the paper shoulder straps Ghostbur had so meticulously assembled. If Ghostbur would just– would <em> show himself, </em> then maybe Dream wouldn’t be so fucking <em> rude </em> about it. He wasn’t fucking <em> imaginary. </em> </p><p>“It’s cold up here.” It wasn’t. Not in mid-summer it wasn’t. “You should light the fire.” Tommy wouldn’t argue. He knew an order when he heard one. He crumpled up the paper armor and stuffed it between the logs in the hearth, letting his frustration and anger out. Stupid Dream. Stupid Ghostbur. Stupid tower. Dream said he could go out when he could control himself, could prove he was mature, but it was never fucking enough. His hands burst into flame; the paper burned, the edges curling and turning black. The logs didn’t even catch. They just smoldered, faintly. Dream sighed, smug. “There we go. Much better.”</p><p>Tommy stared into the fire. His worst day ever just got even more terrible by the minute. He saw the hint of a person out of the corner of his eye - Ghostbur, looking worried. He’d show himself if he were so concerned. Tommy huffed as the tips of his ears started to burn with humiliation, hands curling into fists, small wisps of smoke swirling around them. Stupid ghost. If he’d been such a great knight or whatever in life, why couldn’t he be brave or valiant now? It didn’t make any sense. Tommy stood, rage still boiling in him, and stalked to the checkers set. Fucking stupid. All of this was fucking <em> stupid </em> and Tommy was fucking <em> done with it. </em> He slammed his still smoldering fist onto the table beside the checkerboard, the pieces scattering. He was already here, might as well flip the damn thing, too. Kick a chair, while he’s at it. Vent all this fucking frustration <em> somehow. </em></p><p>Behind him, Dream sighed.</p><p>All at once, Tommy remembered where he was. He was home (he was <em> always </em> home), standing in front of a small, overturned table, checkers scattered everywhere. The chairs were askew. Tommy could smell smoke. He didn’t even feel any better (he <em> never </em>felt any better), and now there was a mess. All because– because Dream wanted him to act more mature. And he threw a tantrum. </p><p>“Sorry,” he muttered, shoulders hunched nearly to his ears. He could feel the cold wash of shame race down the back of his neck. He waited for the reprimand to come, but all he got was another disappointed sigh. That just made it all worse. If Dream would just shout at him, it would be easier. Way fucking easier. Any reaction would be better than this. Tommy leaned over, turning the table upright. There was a scorch in the exact shape of his fist burned a few millimeters into the wood. He straightened the chairs. Picked up the checkerboard. Picked up the checkers. Put them back on the table. He turned, hands still balled, shoulders still hunched, not looking at Dream’s face. “I just–” he started, trying to find the right words. “Sorry. Lost– lost control. Need to work on it. I know.”</p><p>Dream took a few steps forward, sighing softly. Not disappointed, just… sad. Pitying. “Oh, Tommy.” A hand on his shoulder. Tommy still didn’t relax. “I know, you’re trying.” The hand moved to his upper arm, giving it a soft, comforting squeeze. His eyes stung. “You’ve been working hard. You’ve been doing really well lately.” That’s what broke him. He’d been trying to do it less and less, the whole ‘hugging’ thing. He was grown, he was older now, he didn’t <em> need </em> this sort of emotional shit. And yet. He surged forward, hugging Dream around the middle. His guardian stumbled a half-step back, a surprised <em> “Woa-oh-oh,” </em>escaping him, but he hugged Tommy back. It was a comfort he didn’t want to need, didn’t feel like he needed, but here he was, and… and he felt better. Just a little. </p><p>“It was a slip-up. It happens all the time,” Dream said gently. “It means you’re still young. You’ll learn to control it better, but it’s moments like these that tell us you’re not quite there yet. I promise, when you can handle yourself, you can leave. This is to keep you and anyone you might meet safe. You know that.” Tommy nodded into his shoulder, taking a deep breath. He pulled away, rubbing his eyes furiously. He wasn’t crying. He never was. Dream chuckled, good-natured, and ruffled Tommy’s hair before the boy could pull away. Tommy tried to swat at his hands, but couldn’t help his own small smile. </p><p>“So,” he said, finally, actually looking at Dream, “What’s got you back so soon?”</p><p>“Errands were shorter than usual. Picked up food and got final confirmation on everyone attending the Hunt this year. Nothing spectacular.” Gods, the Hunt. Tommy always wanted to go on the Hunt. It sounded like so much fun, the yearly hunt Dream and his friends would go on, every time he talked about it. <em> When you’re older, </em>Dream always said. But he said that about a lot of things.</p><p>“The Hunt? What’s this year’s–” Ah, shit, what was that word he’d seen? “–quarry? What’s the <em> quarry </em>you’ll be hunting?”</p><p>“This year?” Dream chuckled again, and Tommy could only imagine his grin underneath that mask. Wicked, playful, maybe even a glint in his eye. “Me.” Tommy frowned, unsure how to quite process that statement, but Dream kept talking. “I’m leaving soon. If there’s anything you need, let me know. We’ll be gone for at least three days.” </p><p>Three days. Three days to have the tower all to himself. Tommy tried to keep his surprise off his face, but Dream didn’t notice. He was busy unpacking today’s supplies. Firewood, fresh vegetables, herbs, a new plate to replace the one Tommy broke last week, and a loaf of bread. </p><p>“W–wait, wait, hold on, <em> you’re </em> going to be <em> hunted? </em> By your <em> friends?” </em> Tommy looked at him in disbelief. He couldn’t be serious.</p><p>“Oh, yeah.” Dream snorted, placing the food in the icebox. “I’ve managed to outrun ‘em a few times. They’re out of practice.”</p><p>Tommy could feel his head spiral with questions. <em> What the fuck actually went down on these hunts? </em> He always envisioned wild boars or crazy monsters but… Sure. Fuck it. </p><p>“What happens if they win? What do they get out of it?” </p><p>“Boasting rights, I’d assume. Some kind of prize.” The plate clinked against the ones already in the cupboard. “Not that they’ve ever won,” Dream chuckled. He seemed confident in his abilities. Knowing Dream, it wasn’t false confidence, either. He had the skills to back up his claims. Tommy could hear the mocking eye roll in Dream’s words.</p><p>Just then, an idea came to him. “What do you get if you win?” Tommy looked down before looking back at Dream with pleading eyes. If he was going to get what he wanted, he would have to play into Dream’s ego. “Or should I say <em> when </em> you win?”</p><p><em> “When </em> I win,” Dream agreed, glancing at Tommy over his shoulder, “I can ask for anything. Granted, it can’t be anything crazy. But I <em> do </em>get a prize.” Putting the last of the supplies away, Dream fully turned towards Tommy, leaning against the cupboards. Tommy didn’t need to see his face to know he was raising an eyebrow at him as he crossed his arms. “Why? Got any ideas? Something you’d ask for if you won?”</p><p>“Well…” There <em> was </em>something Tommy would ask for, but starting small would work better. “I have been wanting a new music box.” Ever since he could remember, Dream would sometimes bring him back little music boxes from his travels. He didn’t bring trinkets back very often, but when he did, it was the best thing in the world. It showed that Dream was thinking of him. </p><p>“Another one?” Dream sounded skeptical, shaking his head. “You <em> just </em>got a new one. For your birthday, remember?”</p><p>“It’s a hypothetical!” Tommy protested, “If I were to win the Hunt! Not like I’m <em> really </em>asking or anything.” He crossed his arms, rolling his eyes and looking away. “Hell, getting to step outside this tower would be enough of a prize for me.”</p><p>Shit. Tommy realized his mistake as soon as the words left his mouth. He felt the room turn cold, Dream’s posture changing. He hunched his shoulders again. “Sorry,” he muttered. The change in mood felt suffocating, his eyes desperately scanning the room for something interesting on the floor to avoid eye contact. </p><p>“Tommy.” Dream stepped forward, closing the distance between himself and his protege. “We’ve had this conversation before. You are <em> not </em> leaving. Now now, not anytime soon.” Dream took a single step forward, looming over the teen all but physically. “It’s for your own good. You know that.”</p><p>“I know! I know!” Tommy turned his head to the side. Why did he even say that? “I’m sorry! It won’t happen again, I didn’t mean to!” He felt out of control, desperately scrambling for an excuse and coming up empty. “It was– it was all part of the hypothetical! Hypothetically, me winning would just– haha– have to– to involve me leaving in the first place! So, really, as a prize it wouldn’t make much sense!”</p><p>Dream looked at Tommy for a long moment before sighing, relaxing his posture. “Tommy, I don’t want to be the bad guy here. I’m your friend, remember?” He put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder, the boy flinching at the contact. “I’m not your enemy. I’m just doing what needs to be done. You can either make it harder and fight against me, or you can make this easier for both of us and cooperate. I promise, you’ll understand once you’re mature.”</p><p>“...Okay.” Tommy let himself give up, forcing his shoulders to go slack. “You’re– you’re right. I trust you.” </p><p>“Good. Now, before I go…” Dream held out a hand, palm up, offering it to Tommy. “I’ll be gone for a little while. I won’t be here to bail you out if you lose control. Your energy might overwhelm you again.” Tommy had to suppress a shiver. Last time hadn’t been pretty. He nodded, taking Dream’s hand. Deep breath. In, then out. He closed his eyes, centering himself, focusing on his own energy. Deep breath. In, then out.</p><p>Slowly, his hair started to glow, his energy manifesting physically. It started at his roots, spreading to the tips. It was a soft golden color, radiant enough to rival the sun. His freckles started to glow as well, resembling the multitude of constellations in the night sky. He almost felt weightless, like he could play among the clouds. The golden shimmer of magic dancing across his skin tickled, but he stayed focused. He used to want to scratch at the feeling when he was younger, but Dream’s reprimands made him build up a tolerance, resisting the urge to let go of his mentor’s hands. Deep breath. In, and let the energy transfer on the exhale. Out. </p><p>The golden magic crept across his arms and flowed toward his mentor. He remembers it resisting at first when he was younger, but now after many years of practice, it felt almost as normal as any other magic use. As his magic seeped out of him, he could feel his energy leaving him as well. He suddenly felt the weight of gravity again, and then some. His hands started to go slack, but Dream kept his grip on him tight. His legs felt weak. He wanted to collapse, the need to pass out growing with each passing second. Did the ritual usually take this long? </p><p>Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dream let go. Tommy fell to his knees, feeling weaker than ever. He tried to regain his breath, small beads of sweat dripping down his face. Opposite of him, Dream stood tall, looking, if it were possible, more <em> real. </em> He looked down at his hands, watching as green sparks of energy easily came to him. The ritual was complete.</p><p>After a moment, he glanced down. “Are you alright?” he asked, crouching beside Tommy, “It’s been a while, I know. It takes a lot out of you to transfer that much power.” </p><p>“Fine,” Tommy said through gritted teeth, starting to shakily rise to his feet. Dream helped him up, steady in comparison. “I’m fine. I feel fantastic,” he muttered, “Definitely don’t feel like shit at all.”</p><p>Dream huffed in annoyance. “I know it takes a lot out of you, but you don’t have to give me attitude about it.” He turned away from Tommy to go back to collecting the necessary supplies for his trip. “If you are going to talk back, the least you could do is speak up. You know how I feel about muttering.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” Tommy waved him off, rolling his eyes. </p><p>“Maybe <em> that’s </em> why you were handed over to me. So you’d stop muttering all the time.” Dream’s voice never changed tone, still light and jovial, though his words had an edge to them. “Not because you were a brat with dangerous magical powers, but because you were <em> annoying.” </em>He laughed to himself, closing up his satchel and turning to Tommy. “I’m going to go confirm the campsite, check on you one last time, then leave. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.” </p><p>Before Tommy could process everything he had said, Dream had put on his traveling cloak and hopped once again out the window, disappearing on the breeze. His words still rang through Tommy’s ears, echoing off the walls of the tower. <em> Annoying. Given away. Dangerous. Brat.  </em></p><p>Not that he remembered his family very well, if at all. He tried. He tried to remember. But he had been so young, he couldn’t– well, no matter. Ghostbur and Dream were his family. Dream was his mentor, his protector, his best friend. He always had Tommy’s best interests in mind. And Ghostbur! He couldn’t forget Ghostbur. He was like the older brother he’d presumably never had. His constant companion, always there for him. Mostly, when Dream wasn’t around. Regardless, he didn’t need anyone else, not with these two around.</p><p>His hand still drifted to the compass he had hanging around his neck. It was the only thing he had of his past life, of his family. He’d had it since before he could remember, since before living with Dream, the pewter compass that always seemed to shine a purple-ish blue. No matter where he put it, the needle always pointed to him. He had no idea as to why, and he only had one clue, however unhelpful. Two words were engraved on the back: <em> Your Tommy. </em> His family had given him away, but once… he had been someone’s, once. That was the thing he’d do, if he could ever get out. Find whoever this originally belonged to <em> (who </em> <em> he </em> <em> belonged to, </em>his brain unhelpfully supplied) and give them a piece of his mind. He had a right few things he’d like to say, thank you very much. Find who it was who didn’t think he was worth keeping around. Give ‘em what for.</p><p>“Oh, good, he’s gone.” Tommy blinked, remembering where he was. How long had he been standing there? He let go of the compass and spun around, met immediately by Ghostbur’s translucent face. He was beaming, but paused as he met Tommy’s eye. “What’s– what’s wrong, Tommy?” he said, smile melting into a concerned frown, his head cocked to the side. “You’re upset. And very tired. That’s not good for you. Here, sit down, c’mon.” </p><p>Ghostbur herded Tommy over to the couch, barely any force, but Tommy wasn’t resisting. He flopped down onto the well-worn cushions, Ghostbur hovering on the arm. </p><p>“Are you sad that he’s gone?”</p><p>Tommy took a moment to respond. “What?”</p><p>“You only got all sad and distant after Dream left. You’re sad because he left.” Ghostbur’s frown rapidly turned worried; he rubbed the hem of his sweater, looking down at Tommy. “And I made you more upset by celebrating him leaving.”</p><p>“No, no, Wil, that’s not–” Tommy sat up, shaking his head. “That’s not it, I’m not sad or anything. At least, I don’t <em> think </em> I’m sad, but, really. I’m not all too sure <em> what </em> I’m feeling right now, actually. It’s all very complicated and I’m kind of confused but–” He had to pause to take a breath, losing his train of thought. “But I’m not upset with <em> you. </em>And I’m happy to have some time without Dream.” </p><p>Ghostbur beamed once again, clasping his hands together. “Brilliant!” If only Tommy could be so unburdened by emotions like Ghostbur was. “Anyway, I remembered something! Tomorrow! Tommy, do you know what tomorrow is?” Did he? Tomorrow was going to be like any other day, as far as he was concerned. Just another boring day in his boring, boring life.</p><p>“Is it the–"</p><p>“It’s the <em> lantern day.” </em> Oh, right. The lantern day. Tommy presumed there was some kind of festival that went along with it, not that he’d ever seen it in person, or been to any festival for that matter. Every year, hundreds of lanterns would float up into the sky, and every year Ghostbur would make Tommy watch them with him. The ghost’s eyes always lit up when they came into view. “You know, Tommy, I may not remember much, but! But, but, but, I remember those <em> lanterns, </em> Tommy. Those were always my <em> favorite </em> during the summer festivals, you know that, right?” He sighed dreamily, leaning against Tommy. There was a slight pressure there, a hint of corporeality, feather-light against Tommy’s shoulder. “Y’know, me and my dad, we used to make those lanterns when I was a kid. He taught me how, I still–” Ghostbur stopped and gasped, turning to Tommy, eyes full of excitement and delight. “Tommy! I know what we can do while Dream is gone!” He leapt up and began to search the drawers, leaving Tommy on the couch. “We’d need paper – not like construction paper, something much lighter – and– and some <em> wire, </em>do we have that? Lightweight wire? The jewelry kind? And something to act as the heat source, and then–”</p><p>Tommy started to doze on the cushions. Dream would be back later. And then he’d be gone for a little while. And Ghostbur’s new scheme seemed kind of fun. </p><p>Maybe today wasn’t so bad, after all.</p>
<hr/><p>“So, remind me again,” Techno said, stepping over a particularly gnarled root. They’d been walking for a few hours, long enough for word to spread about the missing compass, but not long enough for Techno’s cover story to gain as much ground. “Why, exactly, we’re headin’ this way?”</p><p>“Right,” Ranboo said, a glance thrown over one shoulder, “So, uh...” The kid still had the second compass, the one he had stolen hours before, in one hand. Techno wasn’t letting it out of his sight. “They found the Sundrop a few miles out of the city limits. If we start there, it’s possible the kidnapper came back to this general location. Probably not within the Summergrove itself, but…” He shrugged. “Y’know. Around.”</p><p>Huh. The kid had done his homework. Put some actual thought into it. Techno wasn’t about to let himself seem impressed, but his expectations were being exceeded. He had been almost certain Ranboo was intent on running the second he could, but it looked like the kid actually wanted to find the missing prince. </p><p>“And since the flower couldn’t be divined,” the thief continued, “neither could the prince. Doesn’t completely explain the compasses, though.”</p><p>“Tied to souls,” Techno grunted, “Instead of his power. Can’t divine a soul, but you can anchor somethin’ to it.” He played it off as though it was something he’d heard a million times, but he’d been there when the compasses were created. He remembered the way his older brother had explained the magic. He remembered the way his younger brothers laughed in delight as they ran around their palace, the needles always pointing to the other no matter where they went. He remembered every detail. He always remembered every detail. </p><p>“Huh.”</p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p>They continued walking in silence. The sun was high in the sky, dappled through the trees. It must’ve been going on mid-afternoon. At the base of a cliff covered in ivy, Ranboo stopped, cursing under his breath in a language Techno couldn’t understand.</p><p>“How’s your side feelin’?”</p><p>“What?” The kid looked up sharply, the movement making him wince.</p><p>Techno scoffed. “You’ve been avoidin’ turning your torso too much. Means you’re probably injured.” The <em>and I saw you crash into that roof during your escape </em>went unsaid, though he was sure the sentiment was understood.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Ranboo said, waving a hand, “Just a bruise.” He prodded his stomach once, wincing again. “Okay. A big bruise. But I’m fine.” The kid rolled his eyes at Techno’s skeptical expression. “I’ll just, y’know? I’ll rest. That is what I’ll do, I’ll lean against this cliff and I will rest. Watch. Here I go.”</p><p>Ranboo leaned against the ivy-covered cliff. </p><p>Ranboo promptly vanished into the ivy-covered cliff.</p><p>Techno watched as his apprentice fell backwards through the wall, the kid yelping in surprise as he went. He drew his sword, approaching the side of the cliff, and pulled the ivy back. It was a naturally-formed tunnel by the looks, not very long, with a grass floor and another curtain of ivy covering the other side. He looked down at Ranboo, offering him a hand. The kid took it and stood, dusting himself off.</p><p>“I meant to do that,” Ranboo said, jutting his chin out and trying to look dignified. The image he was trying to project was slightly ruined by his arm clutching his sore side. Techno just snorted to himself as they walked through to the other side of the tunnel. He parted the ivy.</p><p>On the other side, there was a tower. A single, tall tower, in the middle of a clearing. It was surrounded on all sides by cliffs, the walls sheer and barren. A waterfall flowed out of one side. It was beautiful, but Techno was more interested in that tower. Beside him, Techno heard Ranboo follow him out, a soft <em> “Holy…” </em>said under the kid’s breath. The top of the tower was tiled a light blue, tinged green by the moss, a red brick chimney poking out of the right side. The sides were made of stone, the same color as the cliffs. Had this been a quarry? Techno would have to do some research. The ivy covering the tunnel was all over the valley, creeping up the sides of the cliffs and tower, threatening to choke out the rest of the plant life. The tower thinned towards the middle before widening into a larger space, a set of bay windows covering the left side of the structure. </p><p>It didn’t have a door.</p><p>The tower didn’t have a visible door. That would be an issue. From this angle, the only entrance Technoblade could see was the center window at the top, which appeared to be open. No visible shutters. Maybe it was abandoned? There was no smoke rising from the chimney, but… no. No, those were definitely potted plants sitting on the window sill. That hanging basket at the top of the frame was definitely in full bloom. There was someone living here.</p><p>...There was <em> definitely </em> someone living here.</p><p>Techno felt his guard raise, even more than before. Were they home? Were they waiting up above, ready to drop down on the intruders? Were they watching him? There was something off about this, but he couldn’t tell what. It was starting to freak him out. Beside him, Ranboo was frantically scrawling down everything he could see in a small notebook, along with a quick sketch of the tower. Good. At least one of them could document it. </p><p>“Draw later,” Techno muttered, glancing around. No one above. No one behind them. The only sounds were the waterfall and whatever little animals lived out here. “Help me scout.”</p><p>Sticking to the shadows, the two approached the base of the tower. Nothing. No one. They checked the perimeter, unable to find a door. If they moved the ivy, the tower owner might see, and Techno knew better than to leave an actual trace. Around the back of the tower, Techno sat his pack down, digging through for anything that might help them climb up. Some rope, but that would only help in the event that one of them got up there in the first place. Up close, it appeared that the tower was made of cobblestones. Perfect for getting a handhold with the right tools. Hm. </p><p>He drew two crossbow bolts from his quiver, tossing both them and the rope at Ranboo’s feet. The kid was back in his notebook, adding more details to the notes. He jumped, looking from his mentor to the items presented.</p><p>“Uh.”</p><p>“Go up. You’re lighter, you’ll go quicker, and I’ve seen you climb. Go up, throw the rope down. I’ll keep watch.” The kid’s two-toned eyes were wide, like he didn’t understand what Techno was saying. Techno rolled his eyes, gesturing to the items. “C’mon. As if you’ve never scaled a wall.” Reluctantly, away went the notebook and pencil. </p><p>With the rope coiled around one shoulder and a bolt in each hand, Ranboo started to climb. From the base of the tower, Techno turned away, loading his crossbow and surveying the valley. Nothing so far. Just the muttered curses and complaints from his apprentice growing fainter the higher he climbed. </p><p>Today was going to be one hell of a day.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>heeeeeeeeere we go babey</p><p>Originally jammed in the Ranboo Apologists United discord by @ender-queen330/EnderQueen330 on tumblr/twitter. Up to ch. 6 is planned! more to come real real soon. Siri doesn’t have any socials, but you catch me (ResHes) on tumblr @probablypartypoison! </p><p>let us know what you think! kudos and comments always feed our little hearts &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. I Have Everything, Except, I Guess, a Door</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A thief, a sorcerer, and a prince walk into a tower</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>chapter title from "when will my life begin (reprise)"</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Go up the tower, Ranboo, you’re so good at climbing, Ranboo,” muttered Ranboo, sticking a crossbow bolt between two stones. He was halfway up the tower, and could still hear Techno snickering down below. He was good at climbing, yeah, but usually he wasn’t <em> injured, Technoblade, </em>while doing it.</p><p>It didn’t take him long to get to the top. He hauled himself onto the oddly wide window ledge, taking the moment to catch his breath. From here, he could see some of the tower room, though no one seemed to be home. The blooming hanging basket Techno had pointed out was on a large metal hook; Ranboo took the plant down, carefully setting it aside. He dropped the rope just under the window, noting the metal hook at the base of the frame. So it wasn’t the first time someone had done this.</p><p>Ranboo drew his notebook from his pocket, jostling the compass he had slipped there before his climb. He wrote down what he could see, hopping down from the ledge and stepping into the room.</p><p>The space was lived in. It was airy, open, the center of the room taken up only by a small table. There were only two chairs, one pushed in, one askew, and a set checkerboard sitting atop the table. The right wall was dominated by a staircase that curved with it, leading up to a small balcony with a door. A second door sat below the balcony, half-covered by forest green curtains. The kitchen sat below the staircase, shelves of books and dry ingredients beside an oven and what appeared to be an icebox. On the left side of the room, Ranboo saw that the bay window had a sun-faded, cobalt blue couch nestled into it with a coffee table in front, and a large wardrobe beside it. The hearth rested right in the center. Notebook in hand, he carefully crossed the room.</p><p>
  <em> No dust. Bread was baked. Hand-shaped scorch on table. </em>
</p><p>He approached the coffee table. Jewelry wire, tissue paper, and an open bottle of glue were scattered around. An open bottle, the glue inside still wet. Huh. Ranboo felt like someone was watching him. He noticed burnt paper in the hearth. </p><p>
  <em> Wet glue. Recent fire. </em>
</p><p>From his left, the wardrobe creaked. To his right, a flash of movement and color. He shook his head, shutting his eyes tight for a moment, before carefully looking back. He could have <em> sworn </em>there was a person there. A young man in a yellow sweater. But– no, no, no one was there. He was alone. It was empty. He was alone.</p><p>Which made it all the more surprising when a blunt object hit the side of his head, and he blacked out.</p>
<hr/><p>There was a person in Tommy’s tower. </p><p>There was– a person. In Tommy’s tower.</p><p>There was a <em> person in Tommy’s tower.  </em></p><p>And this person wasn’t Dream or any of Dream’s friends, the ones he’d sometimes see when the Hunt ran through the valley. This was a <em> person. </em> A <em> real, actual </em>person, who Tommy just knocked him out with a frying pan. Definitely knocked him out, because he didn’t move when Tommy dropped the pan in surprise a second later, it clanging loudly to the floor.</p><p>He had heard a shout of surprise some fifteen minutes ago, and had watched as two – two! – figures walked through what Tommy was <em> certain </em>was a wall of solid stone. He had grabbed one of the cast iron pans from the kitchen as one of them started to climb, hiding in the wardrobe a moment after. He didn’t have to wait in anxiety for long as he soon heard one of them making their way up the wall of his tower. He had kept an eye on the one who climbed up through the crack in the door, and struck when his back was turned. And now the guy was unconscious on the floor.</p><p>He was unlike any person Tommy had seen, though his experience was pretty limited. The guy’s face and hair were almost evenly split down the middle, one half a deep black, the other paper white, with some opposite-color spots on either side. He was in a set of worn traveling clothes, by the looks, but wasn’t overtly armed. The guy had to be pretty young, by Tommy’s estimate, but he didn’t have the widest frame of reference. Young, no weapons, currently knocked out, not human. Okay. Okay. Tommy was the more dangerous of the two, then. Easy. Easy, he had this <em> down.  </em></p><p>The notebook the guy had been writing in was beside him on the floor. Tommy leaned over to pick it up, but something else caught his eye: an object had seemingly rolled out of the guy’s pocket, now lying on the floor. It was shiny, the slightest shimmer to its glass face. A pocket watch? </p><p>“Tommy, look!” Ghostbur had gone back to the window, looking out at the second figure at the base of the tower. Tommy shoved the notebook and shiny thing into his pocket, going to the window. From up here, he could see two things about this guy: he had pink hair in a long braid, and was <em> very </em>armed. There was a nasty-looking sword at his hip made of gleaming black metal, and the crossbow in his hand had an unnatural shine to the wood. Everything about him put Tommy on edge. Ghostbur, however, was ecstatic. “It’s Techno!”</p><p>“Wh- you know him?” Tommy asked, bewildered, “Like, you know who that is?”</p><p>“Of course! It’s Techno!” That told Tommy absolutely nothing. Ghostbur leaned out the window, waving and calling down to the figure outside. “Hey! Technoblade! It’s m–”</p><p>“Shh!” Tommy grabbed the back of Ghostbur’s sweater, pulling him away from the window. The figure, <em> Techno, </em> whoever <em> he </em> was, whipped around, looking for the source of the voice, but shook his head after a moment, and kept walking. “Are you kidding me?” Tommy hissed, the smile slowly dropping from the ghost’s face, “Wil, we don’t know <em> anything </em> about him! He’s got a giant bloody crossbow that could probably shoot us from here! We don’t know why these guys are here and you’re just– just <em> calling out to them? </em> What if they wanted to kidnap me?” He was starting to get frantic, the reality of the situation crashing down on him. He was alone, his guardian had just left, and two people had not only found his tower but one had gotten in and the other looked incredibly dangerous. He didn’t even notice his breathing getting shallow. “Dream– Dream always said people tried to– to kidnap me when I was a kid, that’s why we live here, what if that’s why <em> they’re </em> here now? What if–” The guy on the floor groaned, and Tommy froze. The guy started to move, slumping back to the floor a second later. Still out. Good. Tommy allowed himself the smallest sigh of relief.</p><p>“But…” Ghostbur looked confused, glancing back towards the window. “I trust Techno.” </p><p><em> “Why?” </em>Tommy walked back towards the guy on the floor. Dream would– Dream would be back soon and– and Tommy could use this to prove to him that he was capable! Yeah! That he could take care of himself and all that other shit Dream said he couldn’t! He took down this guy all by himself and didn’t burn him or anything! It would be a surprise, yes, definitely, this would be such a great surprise! The wardrobe was still open. Perfect. Tommy hauled the guy up, pulling the stranger’s arms over his own shoulders, dragging him towards the wardrobe. He was much taller than expected, Tommy was now discovering. Not perfect.</p><p>Ghostbur continued to stare out the window, quiet, like he didn’t even hear the question. It took Tommy what felt like an eternity to get the guy into the wardrobe, finally shutting it and shoving a chair under the handles. He looked to his companion; he wasn’t annoyed, he could never be annoyed at Ghostbur, but there was something off with how he was acting. </p><p>“Why is he…” The ghost leaned forward, a furrow in his brow. “He’s all… grown up.”</p><p>Tommy frowned. How old had Ghostbur been when he died, if he was this confused about this ‘Techno’ being an adult now? How long had he been dead in the first place? Tommy had always assumed he’d been in the tower the entire time, that Ghostbur had always haunted the place, but… apparently not. He studied the spirit in front of him, barely able to read his body language. Yellow sweater, black leggings, a red knit hat. The rest of him seemed devoid of color, complexion a light, faded grey, hair a soft black. It hadn’t always been that color, according to Ghostbur, but it was all Tommy knew. Everything about him was the same as it had always been. Nothing about Ghostbur had outwardly changed. But looking at him now, he was somehow different.</p><p>Tommy slowly took out the shiny thing he had just placed in his pocket, examining it. It was, upon closer inspection, a compass. The body was pewter, by the looks, the metal almost glimmering a soft purple-ish blue. The needle pointed out the window, unwavering. He ran his thumb over the glass face. Something about this was familiar. On the back, he could feel something. Words. He flipped it over. There were only two words on the back: <em> Your Tubbo. </em>Something tugged at Tommy’s mind. A memory. An idea of brown hair and a bright smile. Tommy pulled his own compass out from under his shirt, the metal making a satisfying sound against the chain he kept it on. They were identical. Same metal, same glass, same unique color, same engraved letters.</p><p>The one he had puzzled at all his life pointed to him; this new one pointed out, out of the tower, towards… <em> Tubbo. </em>Whatever a 'Tubbo' was, he was someone’s. And that meant Tommy was, too.</p><p>“You trust him, Wil?”</p><p>Ghostbur started, like he’d forgotten where he was.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Do you trust him? This– this ‘Technoblade’ fella.”</p><p>“Yes.” A short nod. There was no doubt to his answer, no hesitation. “I don’t– I don’t remember who he is. To me. But I know he’s good. I trust him.” Tommy sighed, nodding.</p><p>“I’m going to trust you on this. Call him up.”</p><p>Ghostbur’s face lit up, a bright grin overtaking his confused frown. He looked out the window again, glancing around for his supposed friend. Nothing on the right, nothing on the left. Then, his face fell. </p><p>“Dream,” he said, turning to Tommy. Every time Dream returned, Ghostbur’s reaction was the same: panic. Tommy felt his own heartbeat pick up. Ghostbur vanished, leaving Tommy, once again, alone. His guardian arrived on the breeze, exactly as he’d left.</p><p>“Hello,” Dream said, ever-pleasant.</p><p>“Oh, hey, Dream.” Tommy swallowed hard, trying to keep his nerves down.</p><p>“I’ve got a big surprise for you.” Dream stepped down from the window, patting his satchel. His mentor sounded self-satisfied. What could he have brought? He sauntered to the table, placing the bag down.</p><p>“R-really?” Not what Tommy had been expecting. He blinked, but there were more important things to take care of. Like proving that he could take care of himself in a fight. He cleared his throat, puffing out his chest. “I mean– I– I also have a surprise. A big one.”</p><p>“Can’t be bigger than the one I have for you,” Dream chuckled, opening the bag up.</p><p>“It… probably is.” Tommy laughed along, nervous.</p><p>“Alright. Close your eyes. Hands out.” Dream turned around, hiding something behind his back. Tommy did as he was told, holding out his hands. Something square was placed into them. He opened his eyes, looking at… “Surpri-ise,” Dream sing-songed; Tommy could only imagine his smile. “A music box. New one, too, I’ve never heard the song before.”</p><p>The box was small, like most of the ones Dream brought back were, the top painted with maroon and red stripes. The metal crank glinted slightly in the sunlight. For a moment, he was speechless. </p><p>“I felt bad when I left, I thought I’d make it up to you.” Dream’s voice was warm, but Tommy’s unease didn’t lift. “So, I got you this! You know how I hate leaving after an argument.”</p><p>“Oh– wow, uh. Thank you!”</p><p>“No need to thank me. Just looking out for you, like I always do.” Dream brushed the back of his fingernails against his chest, looking at his gloved hand when he pulled it away. Smug bastard. He looked back up at Tommy as he went over to an open chair. “Now what was it you wanted to show me? Your ‘big surprise?’”</p><p>“Oh! Um– right!” Tommy quickly ran over to his collection of music boxes, placing his newest addition next to the others with care. He’d have time to listen to it later, surely. At the moment, he had bigger fish to fry. “So, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about-”</p><p>“You? Thinking? That can’t be good.” His mentor laughed, putting his legs up on the table as he leaned back in his chair. Dream wiped an imaginary tear away from his mask as his chuckles died. </p><p>Tommy smiled as he rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t let his friend’s jab distract him from his goal. “I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier.”</p><p>Even with his mask on, Tommy knew Dream was raising his eyebrow at him. “I hope you’re not still talking about going out. We’ve been over this.” His tone grew less jovial as he brought his feet back to the floor.</p><p>“I know! I know, but just listen!” Tommy couldn’t fight the smile growing on his face. He couldn’t wait to see his mentor’s reaction. “You’ve always said you thought I couldn’t take care of myself, but–”</p><p>“Tommy, I <em> know </em> you can’t take care of yourself,” Dream interrupted.</p><p>“But that’s just it! You<em> think </em> I don’t know how to take care of myself, but if you’d just–” Tommy turned around, excitedly inching his way back to the wardrobe. He didn’t notice Dream getting up.</p><p>“Tommy…” </p><p>“If you’d just let me–” Tommy’s hand was reaching for the wardrobe door.</p><p>“Tommy.”</p><p>“Just listen–”</p><p>“Tommy! Enough!” Dream slammed his fist down onto the table. ”I’m <em> sick </em> of having this conversation over and over again. You are <em> never </em> leaving this tower! Not <em> now</em>, not <em> ever!”  </em></p><p>Tommy whipped his head back to face Dream, his eyes wide in shock. His mentor was nearly blocking all the light coming in from outside, shadow swallowing up the room. He’d never felt smaller. He slowly took his hand away from the wardrobe, looking down at his feet, crossing his arms in front of his chest defensively.</p><p>“I was just– I was just going to say how I was really gonna train up. Get better at doing this shit on my own, while you’re gone.” He scuffed his foot against the floor. He didn’t even want to look up at Dream. He pushed his luck too much, and for what? All he did was make his closest friend upset. The notebook and compass felt like lead weights in his pocket. “Y’know, make you proud…”</p><p>They stood in silence for a moment, the tension in the air thick before Dream finally let out a sigh. “I get it. But you’re not going to get better so quickly. Not overnight.” His mentor walked over to him and put his hand on his shoulder. He tried not to shrink too much at the touch. “Just… try to have some patience.”</p><p>“I… I know.” Tommy finally looked up at Dream. The same mask he had known his whole life brought him a small amount of comfort. Dream hummed contentedly, tilting his head to the side to suggest a smile.</p><p>“I <em> am </em>proud of you for taking charge in your training. It shows drive.” He took his other hand, dropping it on Tommy's head to ruffle his hair. “Hold on to that. But for now, you know the rules. You’ll be alright while I’m gone?”</p><p>“Yeah. I will.” Tommy felt his anxiety slowly leave him. He took a deep breath, finally leaning into Dream’s touch. His mentor paused for a moment before finally taking his hands away, making his way over to his things. It would be time for him to go soon. Tommy took a moment to fix his hair, messy now that Dream ruffled it. “You know that I hate when you do that.”</p><p>“I know, I know. That’s why I do it.” Dream chuckled, pulling his satchel over his shoulder. “I’ll be back in a couple days.”</p><p>Tommy watched as his friend made his way back to the window. “See you then.” Dream gave a small wave before pushing himself off the ledge, disappearing as easily as he had come.</p><p>Tommy watched the window for a moment, feeling unsure if this was real. Like Dream would pop back in at any moment. He stared, yet nothing happened. Slowly, he let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. He could do this. It would only be a few days.</p><p>“That didn’t go so well, did it?” Tommy jumped as Ghostbur suddenly appeared to his right. Gods, the guy could sneak up on you without even realizing. “I’m sure you’ll be able to get out. One day.”</p><p>“Yeah, I guess. But <em> one day </em> and <em> not yet </em> are starting to feel like <em> never.” </em> Tommy groaned in frustration, claiming the seat Dream had left vacant. He tilted his head back as he looked up at the ceiling. “Just once I’d like to see the world, even if it was only for a day. Just once.”</p><p>“I know you will, Big T. Don’t lose hope. It’ll happen before you know it.” Ghostbur grinned, moving to hover over Tommy. “By the way, what were you going to show him again?”</p><p>Just then, a groan came from behind the wardrobe doors. Tommy’s eyes widened. Shit, he’d nearly forgotten. </p><p>Tommy crept his way over to the wardrobe, Ghostbur following close behind. He put his hand on the handle, pausing for a moment to steady himself, before quickly opening the door and moving out of view behind it. The stranger’s body tipped out slowly before quickly falling face first onto the floor.</p><p>“Holy shit, is he dead?” Tommy whispered to Ghostbur in a panic. Before he could answer, another groan made its way out of the body hanging out of his wardrobe, answering that question for him. The stranger’s eyes opened for a moment; one eye was red, the other lime green. Finally, Tommy moved to grab the frying pan again, poking the stranger’s side with it. When he didn’t move, Tommy let out a small sigh of relief.</p><p>Ghostbur floated over to get a better look at this new person’s face. “So… what are you gonna do with him?”</p>
<hr/><p>Ranboo’s head felt like it was made of a ton of iron, and hurt like he’d been hit with one. His neck hurt – strained. Head tilting toward. Sitting up? He must have been sitting up. He kept his eyes closed, trying to gather his thoughts. What the hell happened? What did he last remember?</p><p><em> Climbing in, walking around. There was… a recent fire? An open bottle? He was alone, he had been alone but </em> – <em> but how did he end up here? Here? Where was here? </em></p><p>Letting out a groan, he slowly opened his eyes. Ranboo blinked a few times, getting used to the sudden rush of light. It was bright, too bright, a beam of sunlight shining right onto him. He took a moment to take in his surroundings. Bookshelf, wardrobe, stairs, kitchen, window, <em> tower, yes, </em> he was in a <em> tower. </em> </p><p>Ranboo looked down, noticing ropes. Wrapped around his body. Keeping him tied to a chair. He had been tied to a chair. Okay. Not good. How. Did he get here? Maybe he wrote it down in his–</p><p>His <em> book. </em></p><p>Ranboo looked around the room frantically, trying to tug away from the bindings on his wrists. He strained away from the chair, only finding his legs to be tied, too. He couldn’t lose that book. It had all the important details of his life in it. It was the only thing making sure he wouldn’t forget! It had to be around close. It had to be, it had to–</p><p>“I wouldn’t try that, if I were you!”</p><p>Ranboo froze. Okay, new voice. He could play along for now. He looked around the room, trying to spot a figure in the shadows. They’re probably the reason behind this new predicament. Since he couldn’t gauge how much danger he was in, he did his best to play along. At least until he saw an opening to escape. Still, that didn’t ease his nerves.</p><p>“Struggling’s– struggling’s pointless!” The voice came again, sounding less confident than before. Ranboo’s eyes searched until finally, he spotted something. A person, standing somewhat behind a bookcase, in the corner of the room. “I know why you’re here and– and you won’t be getting away with shit!”</p><p>The person stepped out from hiding, slowly coming into the light. There, standing in a room previously thought to be unoccupied, was a boy. He looked to be around Ranboo’s age, and looked to be on the taller side as well. His hair was the brightest golden blond he has ever seen before. His eyes, though Ranboo could see the hesitance in them, were determined. He looked like he was ready to face an entire army, wielding… a frying pan?</p><p>Before Ranboo could voice his confusion, the boy stepped forward, pointing the pan at him. “Who are you, and how the <em> fuck </em>did you find me?”</p><p>Ranboo, ever the smooth talker, let out the most eloquent of answers. “Uh.”</p><p>It didn’t seem like the boy appreciated his way with words. He took another step closer, pulling his frying pan back as if preparing to strike. “I asked you a question, big man. Who the <em> fuck </em>are you? How did you find this place?”</p><p>“W– woah, woah, hey, take it easy! Let’s– let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.” Ranboo’s eyes widened in panic; he tried to lift his arms, finding once again that they were tied down. He was trying <em> not </em> to get his head bashed in, thank you very much. “I– I uh. I don’t know who you are, and I honestly don’t really know exactly <em> where </em> I am. I was just passing through, I swear.”</p><p>The boy raised his eyebrow at him, seeming unconvinced. “Does anyone else know I’m here? Are you with someone?”</p><p>Ranboo’s eyes unconsciously drifted to the open window, though he quickly forced himself to look back at the person in front of him. “Uh– nope! Just me! I came here alone. Absolutely no one else.” He attempted to put forth a compelling smile, but he could feel the sweat dripping down his back. He had never been the best liar.</p><p>The boy in front of him looked skeptical, glancing at the window, before looking at a point above Ranboo’s head and rolling his eyes. Regardless, he didn’t call him out on his bullshit. Ranboo didn’t know if he should be thankful. </p><p>“Right, then,” the boy said, back to pointing the pan at him like a sword, “So– uh.”</p><p>“Oh! Uh, Ranboo.” </p><p>“So, Ranboo…” The boy started to circle him, looking over his person. “What do you want with me? Want to kidnap me? Sell me?”</p><p>“Huh? Wh– Look, I don’t even know who you are.”</p><p>“Do you want to– wh.” The boy paused, surprised. “You <em> don’t </em> want to kidnap me?”</p><p>“Yes! I didn’t even know you were <em> here, </em> kidnapping you was, like, the– the <em> last </em>thing on the list of things I thought I’d do today.”</p><p>The boy frowned, holding up a finger in the universal <em> one moment </em>gesture. He turned his back to Ranboo, muttering to himself. No, no, it– it sounded like he was having a conversation.</p><p>“I mean, we could keep him here?” No audible response. “I <em> know, </em> I <em> know, </em>it’ll be three days, but–” He paused again, nodding. “Yeah, I guess…” The boy faced Ranboo again, arms crossed. “What about ‘im?” He nodded toward the window. Oh. Okay.</p><p>“About who?” Ranboo tried, but the boy wasn’t buying it.</p><p>“About the pink guy outside! About–” The boy looked over his shoulder. “Wil, what was his name?” Oh. Okay. The guy had an imaginary friend. Perfect. “Right, yeah. What about that <em> Technoblade </em>guy outside?” An. Imaginary friend who knew Techno’s name. That’s. Uh.</p><p>“Uh,” Ranboo said. The boy pursed his lips, raising his eyebrows. Wrong thing to say. “He’s– we’re friends. He’s my friend.” Well. Mostly. The boy exchanged a look with someone Ranboo could not see. “And– and, we were just exploring! Looking around! Got lost! I could–” Think, think. “–could tell you more if you gave me my things back?”</p>
<hr/><p>Everything about this place set Techno on edge. </p><p>There was nothing wrong with the valley-quarry-clearing, really. It was quiet, it was pretty, the birds were singing and the waterfall had quite the calming effect. But the fact that the tower was here, that it was <em> hidden </em> like this, something about that put Techno off. It felt like he was being watched, like there was someone looking at him. </p><p>Ranboo climbed through the window. No sounds of screaming immediately from the tower. Owner must not have been home. Good. This feeling wasn’t necessary. Hopefully. </p><p>Techno continued to scout around the perimeter, crossbow loaded and ready. Wildlife. Grass. Water. Nothing. There was nothing else here. He was freaking out for no reason. He shook his head. Paranoid. As always.</p><p>“Hey! Technoblade! It’s m–”</p><p>Techno turned on his heel, looking around wildly for the source. He hadn’t heard that voice in– a long time. Too long. He looked up the top of the tower, but no one was leaning out the window. It– it was Ranboo. Ranboo called to him. Definitely. Definitely was Ranboo, nobody else, never mind the fact that the voice was higher than Ranboo’s was and that the kid never called him by his full nickname, especially not for greeting. Only one person ever did that, and he– Techno shook his head, readjusting the bolt in his crossbow and checking the other side of the tower again. It was just the long day getting to him. The kid’s crazy plan. The way the anniversary was on his mind. Nothing else. Nothing else.</p><p>Still nothing. Still nothing here, just Techno and his thoughts, just the quiet. He decided to head back to the front of the tower. Ranboo had been taking a while. Might as well check to see if everything was okay. </p><p>A shadow passed overhead, much too big to be a bird.</p><p>Techno dove for the ivy, acting on instinct. Someone was– flying. Someone was flying. And was landing – gods, <em> no </em>– on the window ledge. The figure was wearing a forest green cloak, hood pulled over their head. They disappeared into the room.</p><p>If Techno and Ranboo had been alone before, they weren’t any longer. Of course the tower had to belong to someone who could fly. Why not.</p><p>No sounds of surprise or cries of fear. No gangly half-endermen being thrown from forty feet. The kid must have found a good hiding spot. All he had to do now was wait and hope they wouldn’t be caught. Magic users were much harder to take down. He did not want to deal with one today.</p><p>The minutes ticked by, agonizing. From his hiding spot, Techno could still see the window. No one looking out, no one else coming in. Then, a noise. From the base of the tower, Techno couldn’t quite hear what the voice was saying, but he could feel the intent. Frustration. Anger. Loss of control. </p><p>Whatever was causing this person to blow up, he was just glad he wasn’t the cause. Only thing worse than a magic user was an <em> unstable </em> magic user. Techno groaned, leaning his back against the cobblestone behind him. Hopefully the owner would leave, so he and Ranboo would be free to continue their search.</p><p>After another few minutes of quiet, the green-cloaked figure was at the window once more. Techno watched as they kicked off the ledge, flying back the way they came. They were gone. He still didn’t move from his spot.</p><p>Another ten, fifteen minutes later, another voice.</p><p>“I’m throwing the rope down! Come up!”</p><p>This time, it was definitely Ranboo. </p><p>The rope came down quickly, the end dangling a foot off the ground. Looking up, he couldn’t see the kid in the window. He raised an eyebrow. Usually Ranboo would at least peek out to see him start climbing. Hesitantly, Techno started to climb. There were too many possibilities for what lay at the top. Was it a trap? Was the owner still there? Would the rope snap? Would anyone ever find him if he were to go missing here? </p><p>Techno hefted himself over the ledge, the floor solid under him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light. The space wasn’t too bad, homey. The thing that caught Techno off guard, however, was the fact that his apprentice was sitting in the middle of the room, tied to a chair, and there was a teenage boy standing over his shoulder. </p><p>“Hey, Techno,” his apprentice said weakly.</p><p>“...Hey,” Techno replied, “Who’s… who’s your friend?”</p><p>“My name’s Tommy,” the teenage boy interjected, none too polite.</p><p>“...His name’s Tommy.”</p><p>Tommy, as it turned out, had been in the tower for quite some time. The entire time that they’d been there, in fact. And was currently holding Ranboo hostage. </p><p>Yeah.</p><p>Alright.</p><p>This might as well be the case.</p><p>Techno pointedly ignored how familiar Tommy looked. He ignored the look Tommy was giving him even more. Everyone stared at him upon first meeting him, of course they would. Everybody had heard of the cursed prince. At least, this would put any rumors Tommy had heard to rest. His hair was pink, yes, and yes, he had tusks. And yes, his ears and teeth were pointed. But he didn’t have the head of a pig, he didn’t have hooves, he didn’t have glowing red eyes. And, no, he wasn’t cursed to be this tall, either. Maybe his nose was a little more upturned than anyone else in his family, but he didn’t have a snout. He didn’t have a tail.</p><p>He knew he was scary. The glasses sometimes helped to offset it, but he wasn’t stupid. He noticed. He always noticed.</p><p>Tommy cleared his throat.</p><p>“Anyway.” He stalked around to the front of the chair, gesturing with a cast iron pan. “As you can see, Mr. <em> Technoblade, </em> if that even is your real name–”</p><p>“It’s not,” Techno deadpanned. Tommy glared at him.</p><p><em> “As </em>I was saying. I’ve got your friend here captured. And I do not plan on letting him go until–” He pointed the pan at Techno. “–we make some arrangements.”</p><p>Techno raised an eyebrow, expression otherwise blank. Should he even humor this kid? Just looking him over, he had him outclassed in weaponry and muscle mass. The only thing really holding back from flipping the tables on him was curiosity, honestly. A scrawny kid, living in a sorcerer’s tower? There’s no way he didn’t have magic of his own. Yet he wasn’t using any of it to strong arm him? A part of him kinda wanted to see where this was going to lead.</p><p>The other part of him had something he didn’t want to admit to himself. This kid, Tommy... his face pulled at memories Techno didn’t like to recall. It couldn’t be him; never mind that he looked to be the right age, had Phil’s eyes, had W– no. Not thinking about that. Coincidence. It had to be coincidence. The only thing that would make it real would be–</p><p>“And if you’re having second thoughts, I have something that’s valuable to the two of you,” Tommy said, bringing Techno out of his thoughts. He pulled – as if the coincidences couldn’t get harder to ignore – the compass Ranboo stole out of his pocket. “This,” Tommy said, affecting an air of control and superiority, “is a very valuable item, if your friend’s reactions are anything to go off of.” He shook it back and forth in his hand, the needle not moving. “I will release him and give this back to you under one condition.” The kid had clearly never done a hostage situation before. “There is an event happening soon. Perhaps you are familiar with it.” He’d better not. “Tomorrow night, there will be many floating lights in the sky. Do you know what they are for?” </p><p>“You mean the lanterns for the lost princes?” Techno said flatly, not letting any emotion in his voice betray him. Tommy looked over his shoulder, momentarily dropping his serious manner.</p><p>“Lost princes?” he asked the open air behind him. Techno and Ranboo shared a quick glance. Techno raised both his eyebrows. Ranboo shrugged, grimacing. “Yeah, yeah, well. You were right about the lantern part,” Tommy said. He turned back to Techno. “We wish to see those lanterns. Our request is simple. Bring us to the–”</p><p>“Us?” Techno looked from Tommy to the space behind him. The boy blushed, stammering out a reply.</p><p>“Us? No, what, what are you– <em> I </em> want to see the lanterns, <em> me, I, </em>just me and no one else here.” Okay. Imaginary friend. “Bring me to them and get me back safe, and you can have this compass back.”</p><p>“What about the person in the cloak?” Techno pointed back to the window. “Aren’t they gonna, y’know. Come back and see that you’re gone?”</p><p>“Dream?” Tommy made a face. Noted. “Pft. Nah.” There was a tension to the boy’s shoulders, despite his casual look. “He’s not gonna be back for a few days. That’s why you have to get me there and back. Then you can have the compass back and this guy’s little book thing and we’ll act like it never happened.”</p><p>“Uh, one small problem,” Ranboo piped up, raising a finger as best he could. “Techno and I aren’t exactly looking to be spotted in the kingdom, at the moment. ” </p><p>“I don’t know about you, man, but I am welcome in that kingdom <em> anytime,” </em>Techno said. Ranboo’s murderous look couldn’t wipe the smug grin from Techno’s face. “But, he does have a point. We’re lying low.”</p><p>“Do you want the stupid compass back or not?” Tommy huffed, crossing his arms. He was still holding the object in his hand, nearly pouting. </p><p>Techno sighed, shaking his head ever so slightly. Was he really about to sign up to babysit not one, but two kids? “Look, if we’re doing this, we’re doing it by my rules. You follow me, you don’t stray, and you listen if I give an order. What I say, goes.”</p><p>Tommy looked as if he was about to argue, before stopping and looking to his side for a moment. A thoughtful look clouded his face; careful deliberation. Ranboo looked up at his mentor in disbelief, baffled that he was even entertaining the whims of a random kid. But Techno needed to know. It was a long shot, but there were too many coincidences to ignore at this point.</p><p>“...Fine,” Tommy said, “What’s one more set of stupid rules. Let me get some things together.” He turned around, collecting things as he made his way around the room. “I’ll take anything if it means getting out of this place.” In the meantime, Techno untied Ranboo from the chair. By the looks, the rope would not have been long enough to descend the tower. Maybe Tommy hadn’t thought about that. Maybe he hadn’t tried. Tommy himself was stuffing the collected things into a rucksack, muttering a conversation Techno could barely hear. “I <em> know, </em> I know you trust him, but–” A pause, like he’s been interrupted. <em> “Yes, </em> you’re right, I <em> don’t.” </em>Another pause. “I am not being a bitch! Did he have those teeth things when you knew him?” Techno froze. The boy had his arms crossed, weight shifted to one hip, half-glaring at the space in front of him. “Then things have changed, Wil!” Techno’s blood ran cold. “You don’t know if he’s still the same!” Pause. He sighed, expression softening a little. “I know. We’re still going. Just…” He glanced at Ranboo rubbing his wrists, at Techno staring at him. “Just keep on your guard.”</p><p>Coincidences, Techno told himself. Scolded himself.</p><p>Ranboo gave Techno one last skeptical look, before using the rope to rappel down the tower. Techno waited at the windowsill, watching Tommy carefully. </p><p>The boy was stalling and they both knew it. He was checking his bag again, again, checking back and forth with a person Techno couldn’t see. Even once he made his way to the window, he relentlessly checked for anything to slip on, checking the plants, checking the sky. There was nothing to check. Nothing to see. He could see the hesitation in Tommy’s posture, in the way he touched the window frame, not yet stepping up.</p><p>“Do you…” Techno started awkwardly, “...wanna go first? So we can make sure you don’t fall?”</p><p>“Y-yeah,” Tommy said, finally stepping up, “I’ll– I’ll go first. Make sure I won’t chicken out.”</p><p>“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”</p><p>“No!” Tommy said, eyes almost panicked, “No, I– I want to.” He stepped onto the ledge, hand still on the frame. He took one last look around the tower, grabbed the rope, and started to rappel down. Techno gave a quick visual scan of the room as well. Nothing, but– but he had to do a double take as he turned back to the window. He could have sworn he saw the outline of a familiar young man in a yellow sweater, a look of doubt and concern on his face; he blinked, and the outline vanished. </p><p>It was the valley. And the tower. And that ‘Dream’ guy doing that magic. It was doing weird things to him. Messing with him.</p><p>Techno shook his head, and rappelled down the tower.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>How about that Ranboo stream huh. We knew we had to get this out as soon as that shit happened, but damn. Chapter 3 and the rest of the planning are in the works!! Thank you all so so much for the support so far &lt;3333 the comments and kudos always make our day ;0 </p><p>See you all soon!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. With Every Passing Hour</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A band of unlikely friends(?) walks into a tavern. Deep in the woods, the Hunt begins. And far, far away, a prince frets over the future of his kingdom.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>chapter title from "i have a dream"</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tommy knew, in theory, what the valley would be like. He understood the principles of dirt, of the stream at the bottom, of being outside. In practice, it was very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> different. For example: when grass gets wet, it is slippery. Tommy found this out by promptly falling face first to the ground not twenty feet from the tower. He heard his new guide, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Technoblade, </span>
  </em>
  <span>what a fake fucking name, Tommy was going to find out what his real name was as soon as he could, snort under his breath; the other one, Ranboo, helped him up. Tommy brushed himself off like it was nothing. Like people had helped him up in the past and he’d gotten over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood at the edge of the valley, the ivy curtain at his back, and looked up at the tower. He left the new music box. They left the rope. They’d be back before Dream returned, anyway. It would just make it easier to climb back up, he told himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside him, Ghostbur was also looking at the tower. It was weird seeing it from the outside, the stones, the structure, the roof. Tommy never knew that it looked like this. That it was so tall. That beside it, he was miniscule. Not that he’d admit it, but it was… almost frightening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You comin’?” Techno called, halfway down the tunnel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just a moment.” Tommy waved him off, not taking his eyes from the tower. He should go back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll be right by the tunnel,” Ranboo said, and it almost made Tommy feel better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tower… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s home, Tommy supposed. It had always been home, but there was more out there that he needed to see. The compass was proof of that. He took it out of his pocket, the one Ranboo had dropped. The needle pointed away from the tower and towards… Tubbo. Whatever that was. Ghostbur hovered by his shoulder, tapping the surface of the compass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got a good feeling about this one,” he said, eyes earnest. “I’ve seen this before. And heard that name. Tubbo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of fucking name is Tubbo?” Tommy asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Same kind of name Technoblade is,” Ghostbur said, and Tommy rolled his eyes. Vague. Typical.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go.” Tommy stuffed the compass back into his pocket, turning away from the tower. Never mind the sense of dread building in him. Never mind the trepidation he had for crossing that second curtain of ivy. Techno had already exited the tunnel, the plants swinging behind him. Ranboo waited, though. Tommy appreciated it. A lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pushed through the ivy. On the other side was… more forest. Just more forest. Tommy had never seen the forest, though. He had never seen the way the light filtered through the trees, or how the cliffs rose up until you couldn’t see any higher. Techno was weaving his way through the trees like he’d taken the path a million times, despite there being no signs of tracks, no well-worn path. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This way,” he said curtly, cutting down a vine in his way, “There’s a place we can stop an hour from here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked in semi-silence, Tommy often getting distracted by cool plants and rocks he found. He couldn’t pick them all up, to his disappointment, though he knew all of their names from his books. Ghostbur kept commentary; Ranboo and Techno gave him weird looks, though, every time he’d respond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think they can see you,” he whispered, after nearly half an hour, “Keep looking at me all weird.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, they can’t,” Ghostbur says, like it’s the simplest thing ever, “I don’t want them to. And I don’t…” He frowned, absently touching a spot just under his ribs. “I don’t think Techno wants to see me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure he’d…” Techno turned as Tommy started whispering, fixing him with a hard glare. Tommy trailed off, sharing a look with Ghostbur. Never mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy’s nerves started getting the better of him. The further they got from the tower, the further Tommy was from everything he knew. He pulled Ghostbur aside after another few minutes, starting to fidget.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...We should go back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Ghostbur cocked his head, curious. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, y’know…” Tommy tugged on his bandana, not meeting his eyes. “We haven’t– We’ve gone far enough, right? This is pretty far?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But… what about the lanterns?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can– we can always just.” Tommy waved his hands vaguely, hunching his shoulders. Up ahead, Ranboo and Techno had stopped. And were staring. “Watch them from the tower.” He didn’t want to look up. Ghostbur was disappointed, he could already tell. “And Dream would be mad if he found out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ghostbur drifted closer. “Do you want to go back?” Tommy shrugged vaguely, crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“N… no, but–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can go back if you’re having second thoughts,” Ranboo called, “We can head back now, it’s not too far!” Tommy heard a huff from Technoblade, and the sound of Ranboo getting elbowed in the side. “Just– as a suggestion.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Tommy said, looking up quickly. He couldn’t turn back now. He was so close to being out of there. “B-Besides!” he sputtered, puffing out his chest, “I’ve still got something you want! So! You’d never get it back if I turn around.” Ranboo nodded in agreement. Tommy didn’t miss how hard Techno rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then keep walkin’,” he huffed, cloak swishing as he turned around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They kept walking.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Dream fucking loved the Hunt. Every year, his friends tried so hard to capture or kill him and every year they failed. Every year, he got to laugh and tease as their strategies got better, but never good enough. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he felt alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ant had been working on his potion making in the last year. Sapnap’s aim had gotten even sharper. George was, as always, being used as bait, and was complaining about it more than ever. And Bad – Bad was always sweet, he’d even brought cupcakes to their initial picnic, but once the Hunt was on, he was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>beast. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream was surprised there weren’t more armies under his command, his ability to lead was unmatched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his vision, a blur of movement in black and red. The smell of tree bark starting to smoke to his left. The telltale sound of potions clinking together to his right, and of a too-heavy, too-obvious tread over leaves behind him. He was surrounded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Dre-eam,” Bad sang, voice echoing off the trees like he was on all sides, “We’ve got you tra-apped. Might as well give uh-up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You say that every time,” Dream scoffed, glancing around. To his left, as predicted, was Sapnap, the tree trunk he was hiding behind starting to blacken under his grip. To his right, Ant had a hand in his bag, something clearly at the ready. George was most definitely behind him, though Dream didn’t dare look. They’d catch him off guard that way. Bad strolled out from the shadow of another tree at full height, twirling his axe like it was nothing. It was new, Dream noticed, the blade was the size of his head. There was a red sheen to the black metal. He had to commend Bad’s dedication to the aesthetic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rules were different this year - no flying, no teleporting, no sleeping draughts, no forest fires. Made it more fair for everyone involved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rules didn’t say anything about giving oneself a little boost, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As his friends started to advance, Dream weighed his options. Let them attack, fight them, dispatch George and make him reform at base camp, and run away, or run away now and figure out a way to trap them all later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hm. Easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He feinted left, Sapnap raising his sword to attack, but turned on a heel and dead sprinted towards Ant. The cat fumbled with his bag, not having expected this and unable to grab the potion he wanted in time. Dream jumped up, kicking off the tree behind Ant and letting the momentum carry him into the branches. He lept from branch to branch, the canopy making for excellent cover. Behind him, his friends were shouting in protest, but hot in pursuit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They decided to camp in the Summergrove this year. It was a peaceful spot. Decades of good memories had been made there. They were here for a good time, after all. Dream paused for a moment in a high tree, looking out over the forest. There was the grove, there was the castle in the distance, and – there. The top of the tower. He would run by there, wave to Tommy, let his friends say hi as well. That would be fun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There he is!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream laughed, full-on laughed, as an arrow whizzed by his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Missed me!” he called. He dug through his bag, grabbing a fire charge and throwing it down below. The cloud of smoke erupted immediately, giving him some cover. Up the mountain, over the treetops, and gods, Dream could not stop laughing. He hadn’t had this much fun, hadn’t felt this real, for far, far too long.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kicked off a tree, the top of the tower coming into view. It wasn’t flying if he wasn’t going </span>
  <em>
    <span>up; </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream allowed himself to float to the bottom of the valley, laughing and barely throwing a glance back to the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Tommy!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No response. Dream touched down on the grass, finally turning around. His laughter died in his throat, exhilaration replaced by cold dread. There was a rope. Hanging from the hook. And touching the bottom of the valley.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His friends caught up, coming to a stop at the top of the cliffs. He heard George gasp. Heard Sapnap swear under his breath, and Bad scold him for it. Ant landed beside him, gazing up at the tower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think...?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s hope he didn’t.” If it came out as a snarl, that wasn’t Dream’s problem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The main room was bright, as it always was at this time, sunlight streaming in from the windows. There was tissue paper, wire, and a closed bottle of paste on the table. The checkerboard was perfectly set. The wardrobe was wide open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy?” Nothing. “You’ve left a mess down here.” He hung up his cloak and went up the stairs. Knocked on the door, even. To be polite. He would be polite. “Are you asleep?” Tommy was not asleep. He wasn’t in his room, or the kitchen, or the living room, or hiding, or training. Crackles of green electricity flashed around Dream’s balled fists.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing?” George said, as he came back down the stairs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you </span>
  <em>
    <span>think,</span>
  </em>
  <span> George? Answer me that.” He stalked to the chair, noticing ropes piled loosely around the legs. The rope hanging outside was a different sort. He cut off a small piece, handing it to Sapnap. “Track this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the table sat the music box Dream had gotten Tommy earlier that day. He picked it up, the green electricity cracking the wood. He heard the telltale </span>
  <em>
    <span>whoosh</span>
  </em>
  <span> of flames, and a hum from Sapnap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s with two people.” Kidnappers or accomplices, Dream didn’t know. And none of them </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>know, not until they found him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Which way.” The music box was starting to mold to his grip. Sapnap grimaced and pointed silently out the window. In the direction of the castle. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Accomplices. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Hunt is still on,” Dream announced, tossing the music box over his shoulder and grabbing his cloak, “We have a new target.” He took off, not waiting for the others. “And no rules.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the floor, the mangled music box faintly smoked, metal twisted beyond repair.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Tommy was lucky that Techno was so interested in why he was up in that tower and what his deal was. He’d have left the kid back at that tower if he’d known the trouble he was proving to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are we </span>
  <em>
    <span>going, </span>
  </em>
  <span>exactly?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A tavern. I told you this fifteen minutes ago. We’ve been walkin’ all day, I’m gettin’ hungry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ughhhhhh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lot of their conversation had been going like that. Ranboo was staying relatively quiet, to his credit. Techno didn’t think he’d be able to handle two chatty teenagers. One was trouble enough. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>when he kept hanging back and chatting with someone neither Techno nor Ranboo could see or hear. Who was allegedly named </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wil, </span>
  </em>
  <span>out of all names, and apparently knew Techno. Techno did not like that. Not one bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, another one,” Ranboo said, walking over to a tree with a piece of paper on it. He brought it back to Techno, showing him the paper. It was a wanted poster, Ranboo’s face printed in ink. An impressive woodcut. Techno would have to speak to the artist. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Look</span>
  </em>
  <span> at this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It looks fine. Good likeness.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>name.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ranboo gestured at the bottom of the poster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanted, dead or alive,” Techno read aloud, “On accounts of treason, theft, and breakin’ and enterin’–” He stopped, snorting. “Rambo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“May the </span>
  <em>
    <span>gods </span>
  </em>
  <span>forbid I have a name that isn’t in Common,” his apprentice said sarcastically, crumpling up the wanted poster and shoving it into his bag. He glanced from Tommy to Techno, frowning. “Actually, where </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> we going?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Niki’s.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Oh.” Ranboo hummed to himself, sparing another glance at Tommy. “You could have just said so. That’ll be fun.” Techno rolled his eyes. They were nearly there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki’s tavern had always been one of Techno’s preferred haunts. He had met her right when he started doing mercenary work, and she never treated him any different than any other customer. He became a regular. Niki was good company, Techno had found. He wasn’t great with people, but talking to Niki was fun. She also kept a very sharp sabre under the bar. He respected that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the outside, the tavern was as innocent as it got. White outside walls, dark crossbeams, wooden doors and a shingled roof. A cobblestone chimney that was always pleasantly smoking. The smell of baked goods. As they approached, Tommy perked up, the sweet exterior of the tavern likely an enticing sight. Techno started down the path without any hesitation, Ranboo at his side. He stopped, turning to see Tommy lingering at the gateway, hand on the fencepost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You comin’?” The boy startled, glancing side to side as if Techno could be talking to literally anyone else. “Yes, you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh– uh. Yeah.” Tommy took a half-step forward, hesitating. He glanced to his right, as if looking for – permission? confirmation? – before nodding and crossing the fence line. “There’s not, like, wronguns in there, right?” Techno must have made a face. Tommy looked affronted. “You know! Thieves and murderers and scoundrels! I have always been told to stay away from those types.” Techno snorted, hiding it as a cough. He shared a glance with Ranboo, who shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah. Of course not. We wouldn’t be takin’ you somewhere super dangerous on your first day out or anythin’. That’d be reckless, and we are </span>
  <em>
    <span>anythin’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>but reckless.” A total, complete, and boldfaced lie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. Right.” Tommy nodded decisively, back to his usual bravado. Techno and Ranboo walked into the tavern like normal people; Tommy strode. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Niki’s tavern was home to the rowdiest group of bastards Techno ever had the pleasure (or displeasure) of meeting. Mercs, drunks, thieves, and general partiers came here, and so long as they left Techno alone, he didn’t really care who was there. It’s the kind of place one could get their pocket picked and make friends with the thief after the fact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone threw a bottle as they entered; it smashed against the wall inches from Tommy’s head, making the boy jump. The person who threw it bleated out a sharp laugh, before descending into coughs – Schlatt, then. Techno rolled his eyes, heading straight to the bar. The other two would figure it out. Techno took his preferred seat at the bar, allowing himself a moment to relax.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The usual?” Niki slid into his view, resting against the counter. Her hair was in two buns today. It suited her. “You’re in here early.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got company this time,” he said, shrugging, “and things to prepare for. You know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I know,” she laughed, reaching under the bar for the icebox. Techno looked over his shoulder, to where Schlatt was telling a story to his gathered group of associates. He recognized a couple of them, maybe. One of them, a guy in a blue knit hat, was staring at him apprehensively. It took Techno a moment to place him; he was the one Techno had knocked out the last time he had gone to the prizefighting pit. He huffed out a small laugh, turning back to Niki just as she slid his drink to him. “That’ll be a silver and five copper, </span>
  <em>
    <span>milord.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Techno rolled his eyes, passing her two silver.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>again,” he said, grinning and taking his drink. Chilled water with pomegranate syrup and honey. Perfect for a day like today. “Schlatt giving you trouble still?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah.” Niki made a face, putting the money away. “He’s got that bunch keeping him in check.” Techno sipped his drink, watching Schlatt’s group carefully. Nothing too rowdy, not yet. Niki leaned across the bar, pointing to something on Techno’s other side. “What about them?” He looked to where she was pointing, seeing Tommy sitting with Ranboo at a table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Officially, it’s because I’m arresting him,” Techno said, and Niki snorted. He lowered his voice. “Unofficially, it’s because I’m curious. I’ll tell you more after tomorrow. Depends how things go.” She nodded, before moving down to another patron. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lot of things were depending on how things went. Techno just hoped it wouldn’t end poorly.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Ranboo could tell how out of his element Tommy was, and it was hilarious. The kid was trying so hard. It was almost embarrassing. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>clearly </span>
  </em>
  <span>anxious, looking around over his shoulder at every other second, and that definitely wasn’t Ranboo projecting. It was Tommy, with his obviously false bravado and swagger, who was nervous. Definitely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were sitting at a table, both at a loss for what to do next. Techno had gone straight to the bar and was gossipping with Niki. Maybe he’d come back? And help them out? Maybe? Ranboo fidgeted, glancing towards his mentor. People in the tavern were giving them weird looks. Were giving </span>
  <em>
    <span>him </span>
  </em>
  <span>weird looks. Stop looking at him. Stop. Stop looking at him. He tried to project this at everyone in the tavern as hard as possible. They were not hearing it. They should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You good?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo sat up a little straighter, looking to Tommy. The boy was leaning in closer, looking… concerned? For Ranboo? And not for himself? No, no, definitely not. Definitely because of the people staring at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, of course,” he said, glancing around the tavern room again. Two people were one hundred percent looking at him and whispering to one another. There was a – oh, fuck, shit, fuck – a piece of paper between them, and it </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>was a wanted poster. Oh, fuck. He chirped quietly, unable to stop the warbling sound of distress, and Tommy was giving him that look again. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking </span>
  </em>
  <span>at him. People needed to stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>looking </span>
  </em>
  <span>at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright…” Tommy said, skeptical. He stood up and walked to the bar, patting Ranboo’s shoulder as he passed. He went over to Techno, taking a seat at the bar and chatting with him. Like it was easy. Gods, if only Ranboo could do that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he was fine! He was doing great, actually, his friend and companion was there, and so was the kid they were bringing along. And that kid would surely give up and get scared and just give them the compass back and then they could all go home! No big deal. He’d be free in just a few hours, depending on how quickly Tommy chickened out. Ranboo drummed his fingers on the table, barely noticing as two people approached his table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jumped as they slammed the wanted poster down, leaning in to get a good look at him. Ranboo recognized the two – the one in with the red and blue goggles was Jack, and the one with the blue pelt around his shoulders was Connor. Neither of them looked all too friendly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gentlemen,” Ranboo said stiffly, not meeting their eyes, “How can I help you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We heard some rumors about a thief who sometimes comes here,” Jack said, “Half-enderman type. Heard of ‘im?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s– uh. What’s his name?” Jack turned the wanted poster around, Ranboo’s own face staring back at him in detailed woodcut. On the bottom, a name. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wanted: Ranbob.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Ranboo laughed awkwardly, scooting away an inch. “Nope! Sorry, never heard of him.” Techno and Tommy weren’t paying attention. Tommy was still talking at Niki. Oh, gods, this was bad. Ohhhhh this was bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m getting a guard,” Connor said, leaving quickly. Jack leaned in more, chuckling. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard you committed some pretty serious crimes,” he said casually, gaze keeping Ranboo pinned in his seat, “Treason, theft, some people have even been saying you killed a guard. Probably a pretty penny in it for us to turn you in. Oi!” He called towards the rest of the tavern, straightening up. All eyes on Jack. “Any of you in need of some money? Got a wanted criminal right in front of us.” All eyes on Ranboo. Oh, gods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The clamor was instantaneous, the amount of people rushing him as he tried to get away. Someone grabbed his arms, keeping him in place as he struggled. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t teleport to an open spot, it was too loud and too crowded and very few things in Ranboo’s life had been worse than this moment. Towards the back, Tommy joined the fray. He still had that frying pan, and was ineffectively using it as a weapon. If he weren’t stressed to hell and back, Ranboo might have almost found it funny.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hand him over, I need more drink money!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m broke, I need it more than you do!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let ‘im go, that’s my friend!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way, I want it!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Enough!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room went silent. Everyone turned towards Techno, who was standing on top of the bar with his sword drawn. He glanced around, almost nervous. Ranboo knew he’d led troops before, but this was a different situation. Techno cleared his throat, continuing. “Let him go. He is under my watch, and is currently my charge.” A murmur passed through the bar, a few scoffs mixed in. “Put him down. I am going to escort him from here. And you will not call the guards.” Too late for that. Connor was long gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what’ll you do if we </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jack sneered, “Wouldn’t want it getting back to up top that the </span>
  <em>
    <span>already disgraced Prince Theseus </span>
  </em>
  <span>was abusing his power and arresting innocents.” Another murmur through the bar – </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince Theseus, Prince Theseus, cursed, of the Blade, Prince, disgraced. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Techno tensed, gripping his sword tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not–” He was losing his edge. Ranboo could see it. “That’s not–” The crowd was starting to turn on Ranboo again. Someone started manhandling him towards the door. Then, a voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” It was Tommy. “Hold on a moment.” The tavern held its breath. “I– you can’t take him. He’s my guide! For– for my quest! Have you ever–” He swallowed hard, glancing around briefly. “Have you ever had a dream so important to you that you had to see it through?” A few scattered hums of agreement. “You!” He pointed his frying pan at the person holding Ranboo. “You ever had a dream like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, uh.” The person’s grip loosened in surprise, but Ranboo knew better than to try to get away just yet. He looked to the side, not recognizing the person holding him. He was part crystal golem by the looks, the tavern firelight refracting off his skin. Huh. Definitely someone new. “I’ve– always wanted to learn to bake? If that counts?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What would you bake?” Tommy was stalling. He looked nervous, but his voice was steady.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Muffins?” Murmurs of agreement as well. Techno stepped down from the bar, still watching the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! That sounds great!” Tommy pointed to another person, a young man in a purple jacket. “What about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve always… wanted to be an inventor,” he said. More agreement. Encouragement, even. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d be great at that!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Karl, didn’t you fix Ponk’s wagon last month?” More and more voices joining in, commending Karl’s achievements. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The group started chiming in without prompting. Quackity wanted to run for mayor. Purpled wanted to open a business. Punz wanted to get out of mercenary work. Hannah wanted to start a rose garden. Eventually the diamond guy, Ranboo heard someone call him Skeppy, let him go, the atmosphere in the tavern relaxing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy was in his element. He was a natural. The tavern was enraptured as he spoke, gesturing with his hands as he explained how he’d always wanted to see the lanterns up close. He didn’t explain that he had been trapped in a tower or anything, but that visiting the capital city was always a dream of his. He made a weird face the first time he said the word </span>
  <em>
    <span>dream. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ranboo wrote that one down. He would have to ask later. Out of the corner of his eye, a flash. White? White and green? Looked like a cloak and mask. Ranboo wrote that one down, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Making his way to the bar, Ranboo saw Techno, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince Technoblade, </span>
  </em>
  <span>wiping down the bar, looking apologetically at Niki. Her expression softened as she saw Ranboo, a small smile on her face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Putting him to task, I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got his boots on my counter. I’ve got to keep this place clean.” She snickered, and Ranboo couldn’t help but crack a grin. Techno scowled at them, rolling his eyes. The mood in the tavern had gone back to standard. Jovial, casual, Schlatt telling stories and Quackity shooting down the parts of it that were definitely bullshit. Tommy looked right at home. If the situation were any different, they might have met here. Ranboo made sure to write that observation in his journal. And that Tommy called him his friend. He felt weirdly bad about that. Was he still scamming this kid? He’d have to think about </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>later as well.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy came over to the bar, humming the refrain of the drinking song the tavern goers had been teaching him moments ago. He was still smiling, eyes bright. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’d my distraction work?” he said, “Got them all worked up and everything.” Techno hummed, and Ranboo nodded. Approval enough, apparently, because he then turned to Niki. “Do you have…” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “...alcohol? In this establishment?” Niki could only laugh; Tommy blinked, almost offended. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> alcohol,” she said, managing words between giggles, “but I’m not going to just </span>
  <em>
    <span>give </span>
  </em>
  <span>it to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?! Why?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the tavern burst open. Guards. Shit. Connor was right behind them, a smug look on his face. The guards looked around the tavern slowly, searching. One looked up, directly meeting Ranboo’s gaze. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There he is!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo barely had time to react. The guards started towards him, but before he could move, someone was yanking him over the bar and onto the floor. Niki flipped a switch and the floor opened up; a secret passage. What the hell. Before Ranboo could think about this, however, he was being dragged into the tunnel. Oh. It’s Techno. And by the sounds of protest, he was dragging Tommy, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get up,” Techno snarled, looking over his shoulder, “Get up, get up, we need to run.” That was indication enough. It sounded like the tavern crowd had the guards covered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ran.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The castle was bustling, and for good reason. There had been a robbery that morning. The elder prince had stormed out with little more than a word of goodbye. There was a festival to prepare for. The younger prince’s life could be in danger. The king had a kingdom to run. There were searches for the thief and extra security around the younger prince and advisers all vying for the king’s attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite finding a quiet room, Tubbo couldn’t really consider this a moment of peace. He had a speech to practice. He was pacing – a habit surely picked up from his father – trying to make sense of the notecards in his hands. He knew what they said, he had memorized them days ago, but now the text seemed to swim in front of his eyes in a way that made him dizzy. With a huff, he put the notecards back in the desk drawer, slamming it shut. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doing okay?” On the other side of the room, Tubbo’s personal guard, Fundy, was leaning back on a chair, legs propped up on the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I am,” he says, far too quickly, “It’s not like I have to announce to the entire city that I’m to be named king or anything. It’s not like the one object that points to me at all times has been stolen or anything. It’s not like it’s the tenth anniversary of my </span>
  <em>
    <span>brothers dying </span>
  </em>
  <span>or anything!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, okay, I see, not good.” Tubbo heard the front legs of the chair touch the ground. He turned to see Fundy kicking out the other chair for him. “Sit down. C’mon.” Tubbo sighed, but sat down in the offered chair, head in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just– stressful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, yeah,” Fundy said, shrugging, “You’re a kid. It’s a lot to handle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So? You’re not that much older than I am.” He rolled his eyes, glancing at his personal guard out of the corner of his eye. He did his best to take in a deep breath in an attempt to relax, but tomorrow’s events were weighing on him. He was restless, trying to not fidget, trying not to </span>
  <em>
    <span>think </span>
  </em>
  <span>about any of it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to be the crown prince,” Fundy said, and that made Tubbo all the more stressed. He was going to be the </span>
  <em>
    <span>crown prince.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The </span>
  <em>
    <span>heir apparent. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He had to announce this to an </span>
  <em>
    <span>entire kingdom. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re right!” he snapped, standing quickly enough to make his chair skitter a few inches back. He started pacing, gesturing with his hands. “You’re right, Fundy, you’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to be the crown prince. You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one making the speech. You weren’t sitting for ten years hoping Techno would just– just </span>
  <em>
    <span>give up </span>
  </em>
  <span>on his revenge quest and take the throne! You weren’t waiting in– in </span>
  <em>
    <span>dread </span>
  </em>
  <span>that your only brother wouldn’t come back one day and the throne would just </span>
  <em>
    <span>go </span>
  </em>
  <span>to you </span>
  <em>
    <span>automatically!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He tugged at his hair, laughing almost hysterically. “You don’t have a legacy to live up to, you don’t have a tradition to carry, you’re not expected to go out and </span>
  <em>
    <span>mourn–” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“He was my mentor, too.” Tubbo stopped, looking at his friend. Fundy glanced away, picking idly at a groove in the table, his ears pinned back. “Before Eret. You know that. I miss him as much as you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t. He didn’t, he couldn’t. Fundy didn’t know how it felt, how it </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt, </span>
  </em>
  <span>to know he was supposed to have someone at his side. He didn’t know how it felt to have hope and get it taken away. He didn’t know how it felt to go to bed one night, twin on the other side of the room, oldest brother telling him he’d see them in the morning, only to wake up days later with both brothers </span>
  <em>
    <span>gone.</span>
  </em>
  <span> It wasn’t fair to Fundy, it wasn’t, Fundy didn’t mean it, he didn’t mean To–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock at the door jolted Tubbo out of his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“C-come in,” he called, clasping his hands behind his back to stop wringing them. The door pushed open slowly, but to Tubbo’s surprise and relief, it wasn’t a guard coming to check on him. Instead, it was his father, eyes tired but smile gentle. Tubbo felt himself relax a fraction. “Phil. Hey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One of the guards told me you’d been shouting.” King Philza Soot, fourth of his name, was widely regarded as the wisest and most respected of his predecessors. His rule had been marked by peace and prosperity, by heroic deeds and a kind, just hand extended over the kingdom. Legend had it he had slayed the dragon once terrorizing the land, though </span>
  <em>
    <span>legend </span>
  </em>
  <span>later became a fancy word for </span>
  <em>
    <span>bedtime story,</span>
  </em>
  <span> and </span>
  <em>
    <span>terrorizing the land</span>
  </em>
  <span> often became </span>
  <em>
    <span>stealing pies from the kitchen. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo couldn’t remember when he’d stopped calling him </span>
  <em>
    <span>dad, </span>
  </em>
  <span>though his role never changed. While he was a king to his people, Philza was always a father to his sons. “I hope you haven’t been causing too much trouble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know me,” Tubbo told the floor weakly, “Just declaring war on a neighboring fiefdom.” Phil chuckled, crossing into the room. Tubbo heard Fundy quickly stand and push in his chair. He raised a hand, silently letting his guard leave. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sorry.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Fundy slipped from the chamber, shutting the door behind him. Phil put a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder; the boy sighed, tension draining from his shoulders. “Kind of freaking out. Not a big deal.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wearing a trench into the floor again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” He looked up, met with Phil’s kind gaze. “...I don’t know if I can do this.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What is it you’re worried about?” The concern was clear, etched into the lines of his father’s face. Tubbo realized he’d much rather be studying the floor, waving a hand noncommittally.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The responsibility? And–” He sighed, voice becoming a mumble. “And all of it, I suppose. All of it. Making the speech. Expectations to live up to.” Philza hummed, giving Tubbo’s shoulder a quick squeeze before dropping his hand. “I just–” Might as well try. “Can’t we wait another year? Maybe– maybe Techno will come around and–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tubbo...” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tubbo crossed his arms, shifting in place. He didn’t… he didn’t want to. Is that all this was? That he didn’t want to? Isn’t that why Techno hadn’t just sucked it up and become king? Because he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to? Just let it defer to the youngest, because Techno didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel </span>
  </em>
  <span>like it. Tubbo knew that resentment wasn’t going to get him anywhere, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t mean to. If Techno could just get over it, if Techno didn’t rush out this morning, if Techno didn’t have more important things to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If…” Philza started, hesitant, “If you want. We can add a clause. In the event that Techno </span>
  <em>
    <span>does </span>
  </em>
  <span>come around. Wouldn’t be hard to throw into the official documentation.” It’s more than Tubbo expected. He looked up quickly, eyes wide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he said, nodding, “Yes, yes, yes, that. That sounds like an excellent idea, let’s do that, he’ll come around, won’t he? Maybe? One day?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can hope.” Phil almost sighed, watching his son carefully. “You know, you’re allowed to ask for a hug. Certainly looks like you could use one.” Tubbo did not hesitate. He hugged Phil immediately, not wasting a single second. Deep breaths, as Phil hugged back. Deep breaths, as he tried to keep his shoulders from shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ten years, Phil. It’s been–” Phil held him closer, protective.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know. I know. It’s overwhelming. All of this at once.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I–” His breath hitched, voice tight with fear. “I’m starting to forget their faces.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was terrifying to admit. He didn’t want to forget. He didn’t want the festival to become just another festival. Just another day. But he had been young. Forgetting was natural. It was natural, a part of growing up. And that terrified him. If he could just– exist in that day forever. The one before everything went wrong. Not a care in the world. Everyone around him and alive. Everyone safe and together. Phil smoothed down the hair at the back of his son’s head, humming tunelessly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It used to be so easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time Tubbo pulled away, his head hurt. It was only midday. There were things he still had to do. He excused himself from the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Philza watched him go. There were things he had to attend to, as well.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Dream didn’t relish in violence, truly. He didn’t like to hurt anyone if he didn’t have to. He would threaten, though. He would threaten indiscriminately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where does that passage lead?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man he was threatening at the moment had curling ram horns and a rumpled suit. Dream’s knife was pressed against his neck, just enough to sting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look man, I– I don’t know, I think there’s– there’s a dam? A waterway? I dunno, I’ve never b–” Dream let the guy fall, barely sparing him a second glance. He knew that waterway. He turned back to his friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shall we, gentlemen?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hey! We're back! Apologies for the delay - Siri and I are both college students, and the term just started up again. Not to worry, though, chapter 4 is already in the works! It’s angst time babey we're goin into BACKSTORY. Also felt appropriate to put this out once the new manhunt came out lmao</p><p>let us know what you thought! kudos and comments are always appreciated &lt;33333 seeyall soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. This Is Why You Never Should Have Left</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Stuck together, with a long walk ahead, a thief, a prince, and magician's apprentice get to know each other.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>backstory time babey. mind the updated tags, we're getting into some slightly violent territory. not super bad! but. well. ghostbur's a ghost for a reason. also, like, guilty thoughts and near-death experiences. anyway it's time for the boys to bond :D</p><p>chapter title from "mother knows best (reprise)"</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tommy had not done much running in his life. He never had the opportunity. Or the space. Or a reason. So after a good fifteen minutes of it, he was more than starting to get tired. The patrons at the tavern must have kept the guards occupied for a while – the sounds of shouting and clanging armor had faded quickly.</p><p>Winded, he slowed down, resting against the passageway’s dirt wall. Ranboo and Techno followed suit, neither looking too bothered by the exertion. Well, alright, sure, fine, be that way. Stupid military thief mercenary types. Techno did not look happy about stopping. His problem. </p><p>“Doing alright?” Ranboo approached him slowly. Tommy was starting to like this guy. “We could probably walk the rest of the way from here?”</p><p>“Shouldn’t be too far,” Techno said, the glow of his lantern bathing the tunnel in warm light. He was watching the tunnel behind them, attention unbroken. Over Techno’s shoulder, Tommy noticed Ghostbur just… hovering. Studying the other. He had a look on his face Tommy had never seen before – contemplative, confused, almost sad. Techno turned to look down the other end of the hall and Ghostbur was gone, vanished faster than Tommy could blink. Ghostbur was acting weird. Tommy didn’t like it. “Let’s go. They might start catchin’ up.”</p><p>Techno started down the hall alone, Ranboo and Tommy trailing behind him. There wasn’t anything to look at down here, nothing to hold Tommy’s attention. The forest had been full of trees and bugs and cool rocks; this was all dirt. Dirt and wooden beams, and frankly, that shit was boring. Time for Tommy to flex his conversational skills.</p><p>“So!” he said, strolling up right beside Techno, “Prince Tuh-heseus.” Techno bristled, not looking at Tommy. Ranboo chirped low, warning. “I <em> knew </em>Technoblade couldn’t be your real name, I knew, I said–”</p><p>“I told you it wasn’t my real name.” Techno kept his jaw set, eyes forward. “And don’t call me that. The only people who call me that are foreign dignitaries and people who want to get on my nerves. And only foreign dignitaries are allowed to get away with it.” Tommy rolled his eyes at the not-so-subtle threat, sticking his hands in his pockets.</p><p>“It’s quite the interesting nickname. How’d you get it?” Another warning noise from Ranboo.</p><p>“Askin’ a lot of questions for someone who isn’t answerin’ ours,” Techno said, only glancing at the boy out of the corner of his eye.</p><p>“Then ask me!” Tommy threw up his hands, voice echoing down the tunnel. He crossed his arms, huffing. He muttered, “Not like you were <em> trying </em>to make much conversation in the first place.”</p><p>“What was that?” Techno finally turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “Can’t hear you when you’re mumbling.” </p><p>Tommy froze, like ice water had just been dumped on his head. His heart sped up, his posture straightened. The other two kept walking. He should have known, he should have known not to mumble. Dream would be mad, he should apologize, he didn’t want–</p><p>The lantern swung back towards him. Techno and Ranboo had stopped. They weren’t mad. Techno still looked bored. Ranboo still looked slightly apprehensive.</p><p>“No, really. I didn’t hear you.”</p><p>“S-sorry!” Tommy said quickly, catching up, “Ask me anything!” He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Over his shoulder, he briefly spotted Ghostbur looking concerned. He shook his head, and the next moment, the ghost was gone again. “So long as <em> I </em> get to ask <em> you </em>questions in return.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah.” Techno rolled his eyes, waving a hand vaguely. Ranboo took out his notebook, jotting something down. “We’ll do a whole twenty questions, get to know each other, all that sleepover stuff.” Tommy did not know that twenty questions was a popular game. He did not know what a <em> sleep over </em>was, either. “Anyway,” Techno said, “What were you doin’ up in that tower?” Oh, easy.</p><p>“I live there.” Tommy’s turn. “Who gave you your nickname?”</p><p>“My brother,” Techno grunted. He did not elaborate. Rude. “Why were you livin’ in that tower?”</p><p>“Keeps me safe, dunnit? S’what Dream always said.” It was pretty obvious, in Tommy’s opinion. <em> “Apparently </em> we used to live in the city, but some wronguns came by and tried to <em> steal </em>me. Fucked up, right? Who tries to steal a child?” He scoffed, starting to relax again. “So ‘e took me out to live in the tower. No thieves or baddies out there.” He needed a question. “How did you find the tower?”</p><p>“Accident.” Techno half-grinned, gesturing at Ranboo with his thumb. <em> “This guy </em>fell through a wall.”</p><p>“Hey!” Ranboo protested.</p><p>“Am I wrong?”</p><p>“...No.” Techno chuckled to himself in triumph. His attention went back to Tommy.</p><p>“Next question: who <em> is </em> Dream?” </p><p>“He’s my…” Tommy couldn’t place why, but he felt nervous. Not at the interrogation, necessarily but at what he was supposed to call Dream. He wasn’t a <em> parent, </em> not <em> really, </em>but he was an older brother figure? Maybe? “He’s my mentor. He lives in the tower with me. Keeps me safe n’ that. Never seen his face, though. He's got this mask 'e always wears? Bloody weird, if you ask me. Mask n' cloak, that's–"</p><p>“And he’s not, like, your dad or anything?” Ranboo asked, cutting off whatever Tommy was going to say next.</p><p>“What? No,” Tommy scoffed, rolling his eyes. Stupid question. “Real family thought I was–” He held up his hands for air quotes. <em> “–‘a little brat’ </em> and <em> ‘too dangerous’ </em>to keep around, fuckin’ apparently.” He rolled his eyes harder, crossing his arms. He’s a bloody delight, thanks. He’d get to the city and show them what for. “And, oi, that was two questions.”</p><p>“Then ask us two questions in response,” Techno said dismissively, back to not looking at him. Again, rude. Truly. He’d wound up with the <em> worst </em> traveling companion. Ranboo wasn’t too bad, but <em> Technoblade </em> was proving to be a real bitch. </p><p><em> “Fine, </em> I <em> will.” </em> Gods, now he had to come up with two questions. “Uh.” He glanced to Ghostbur, who shrugged. “Who… is. Your favorite woman.” Nailed it. “And– what’s the <em> worst </em>swear word you know?” Ranboo hid a laugh behind a hand, and Techno turned just enough to look at him in complete confusion.</p><p>“What kind of question is that?” </p><p>“Just answer them!” Ghostbur was laughing, sounding distant; Tommy shot him a dirty look, which only made him laugh harder. Ranboo actually seemed to be thinking about it.</p><p>“I think…” he said, “Probably the ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀ ⎅⍀⏃☌⍜⋏ and ‘⋏⌇⊑⍜⍀⏁.’” Ranboo opened his mouth and made the most unholy goddamn noise Tommy had heard in his fucking live. What the hell. Ghostbur was making a face as well, but it was more like sage understanding than Tommy’s bewilderment. He gave Tommy a shrug that said <em> he’s right.  </em></p><p>“Those are the worst small talk questions I have ever heard. Niki and ‘cactus.’” Techno’s answer was entirely deadpan. </p><p>“That is <em> not </em> a swear!” Tommy protested, but Techno held up a finger.</p><p>“Who’s your imaginary friend?” Tommy stopped, fully stopped, looking towards Ghostbur for help. Ghostbur shrugged again. Techno raised an eyebrow. “The one you’re always talking to.”</p><p>“Well.” Tommy cleared his throat, continuing to walk. “First off, he’s not imaginary. He’s a ghost.” Ranboo wrote this in his notebook. Tommy didn’t think he particularly liked that. “Second, his name’s Ghostbur, but sometimes I call ‘im Wil.” Technoblade tensed. “Yeah, he’s always been around, keeping me company and all and he's got this spot where he-”  Beside him, Ghostbur’s eyes went wide. He started shaking his head frantically, waving his arms. The spot under his ribs started turning blue, a deep, royal color. Tommy had only seen that once or twice in the past, and it was just as terrifying now as the last time. He stammered, “And– and he is currently telling me to end this train of thought?” Ghostbur nodded, touching the spot. His hand came away azure, but the spot started to fade. “He is telling me to– to not continue telling you this.”</p><p>“Why?” Ranboo asked, but Techno held up a hand, listening. </p><p>“Hold on.” The tunnel was silent. On the other side, distantly, Tommy could hear water. But then he heard it, what Techno was listening for. The sound of footfalls over packed earth and the clatter of metal armor. Shouting. Techno swore under his breath, turning pushing the other two forward. “Run. We need to run. Right now.”</p><p>The light from the guards’ lanterns was getting closer. Ranboo took off into the dark, Techno and Tommy close behind.</p>
<hr/><p>Wilbur woke up to the sound of someone crying. No breaking glass, no opening doors, just someone crying. Two someones. His brothers. A nightmare? No. Couldn’t be.</p><p>Something was wrong. </p><p>The crying continued, sobs and– <em> shit, </em>was that his name? They were calling for him, for Techno, for their father. Then, another voice, a condescending tenor.</p><p>“Oh, be quiet. Someone’s going to hear you.”</p><p>The twins suddenly stopped crying. Both of them. At the same time. <em> Shit. </em></p><p>It was midsummer, a warm night, the windows open. They were at <em> least </em>four stories up, how could– no time. He grabbed the rapier hanging on the wall and tore down the hallway. Just a few doors away. Just a few doors. One of them was Techno’s; he threw that one open, too. </p><p>“Get up, get up, something’s <em> wrong,” </em>he urged, not looking to see if Techno was up or not before he kept running. The door to the twins’ room was closed. Wilbur kicked it open without a second thought.</p><p>Tubbo was sitting on his bed, silently wiping his eyes and looking panicked. Tommy’s bed was empty. The window was wide open. A figure stood, silhouetted in the moonlight, one hand on the window frame. He was wearing a hooded cloak, dark green, and Wilbur felt his blood freeze as he turned. The cloak moved like there was a person wearing it, but the form inside was indistinct, like looking through frosted glass. In place of a face, he only had a white mask, two dot eyes and a crude line of a smile. And in one indistinct arm, he held Tommy. The boy looked smaller than normal, terrified, clutching a gleaming compass in one hand. The figure sighed, exasperated but exaggerated.</p><p>“See?” he said, mask tilted towards the child, “You were loud, and now we have a visitor.” The cloak and mask moved like the figure was shaking his head. He set Tommy down on the window seat. “Go back to sleep, both of you.” </p><p>For a moment, the noise started back up. Sniffles and sobs and a soft, scared, “Wil?” but it didn’t last. In identical movements, both twins put their heads down and fell asleep. Wilbur did his best to not shake. He had to do this. He was the eldest. He had to protect them. He just had to hold the figure’s attention until Techno arrived. </p><p>“What are you doing here?” </p><p>“Isn’t it obvious?” the figure asked, cocking his head to the side, “I’m taking back what’s rightfully mine.”</p><p>“Rightfully <em> yours? </em> He’s a <em> child, </em> not an object, he’s not yours to <em> take.” </em> Come on, Techno. Come on. Hurry.</p><p>The figure sighed again. “The flower wasn’t <em> yours </em>to take, and yet.” He shrugged, the cloak moving with the suggestion of shoulders. “You going to do something about it?”</p><p>Was this what Wilbur had been training for? The kingdom was in an era of peace, there was no war, and they certainly weren’t going to make the eldest prince a regular guard. He’d never been trained for a situation like this. Not like this.</p><p>Nevertheless, he lunged.</p>
<hr/><p>Ranboo had almost forgotten it was still daytime. Blinded, he stumbled from the tunnel, opening his eyes in time to see the ledge he was about to walk off of. Before he could process this, Techno was grabbing the back of his shirt and hauling him back, saving him from certain death <em> again. </em>He was starting to rack up a lot of debts, wasn’t he.</p><p>The tunnel opened into a quarry, about halfway up the rock wall, a series of aqueducts held up on stilts leading from a gated dam to a large barrel. The sound of rushing water was immense, not deafening but consistent; it made Ranboo’s head spin, static in his ears. Oh, this could be bad. He could hold off on the panic for now. Maybe. Hopefully.</p><p>There wasn’t time to think. They didn’t have time to think. They had to move, and they had to move <em> fast. </em>Ranboo dusted himself off and looked around. The cliffs were too steep to climb, the drop was too sheer to jump from. There were the aqueducts. They could run across the aqueducts. </p><p>Ranboo did <em> not </em>want to do that.</p><p>“We need to get down there!” Techno said, pointing to a spot in the quarry. There was another tunnel, an opening in the rock. They could escape. They could get the guards off their backs. All they had to do was get to the bottom of the quarry without breaking any bones, getting shot by guards with crossbows, getting stabbed, or anything else that would put a person, human or otherwise, in mortal danger. </p><p>Ranboo looked back to the tunnel – the guards rounded the corner, seeing the group at the cliff’s edge. They were drawing their swords. Some had crossbows. The shout of recognition went up; the guards were running faster. The sound of their footsteps against the stone matched how hard his heart was pounding.</p><p>“Techno?!” he called, looking around wildly for a way to get down, “Any ideas?!”</p><p>Techno swore under his breath, scanning the quarry for something, anything.</p><p>“There!” he said, pointing to a ledge twenty feet down, “Can you warp with another person?” Ranboo wanted to protest – he <em> could, </em> it took a lot of energy but he <em> could </em> – but the guards were getting closer. He nodded, eyes wide. Techno shoved Tommy towards him. “Get to the bottom, use that ledge first. I’ll get down on my own.”</p><p>“But–” He caught Tommy, the boy scrambling to pull himself upright again.</p><p>“Go!”</p><p>The guards burst from the tunnel just as Ranboo blinked away, Tommy pulled with him. They reappeared on the ledge, leaving Techno alone. It was too loud here, everything too chaotic, everyone yelling.</p><p>“Where’d he go?!” A guard. Angry.</p><p>“My lord?” Another guard. Bewildered.</p><p>“Get back!” Techno. The telltale sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath.</p><p>“What the fuck?!” Tommy. Also bewildered. Understandable, really.</p><p>“Down there!” A third guard. Yikes.</p><p>It would only take one more warp to get to the bottom, luckily. Ranboo would only have enough energy for that, to bring both him <em> and </em> Tommy down there. The guards were starting to advance on Techno. One aimed a crossbow down at the teenagers. Oh. They had to go <em> now. </em>Got it. The guard fired and Ranboo managed to pull both himself and Tommy down to the bottom of the quarry right before the bolt could hit them. Tommy shrieked in surprise, holding the – wait, he still had it?? – frying pan in front of his face like a shield. His other hand was clasped around Ranboo’s wrist, almost burning. What the hell? Did he touch the water? The spot Tommy had clasped hurt, like he’d been scalded. Tommy stumbled away, leaning heavily against one of the wooden support beams and watching Techno.</p><p>“My lord, what’s the meaning of this?!” the first guard demanded. The leader, then. It was hard to see what was going on, but Techno had his sword drawn and his cloak was blowing in the wind. Dramatic.</p><p>“The thief is mine to apprehend, and mine alone.” Techno’s voice was dangerous. Ranboo could smell woodsmoke. A nearby campfire? There might be others somewhere. He kept his eyes on the ledge. “The message was put out this morning.”</p><p>“The message was to apprehend the thief by any m–”</p><p>“The message <em> changed,” </em>Techno snarled, taking a step forward. The guards all backed up a step. “By order of the king. That Prince Theseus Soot was to be the one to apprehend the thief responsible for stealing the compass.” He said every word like a threat. The woodsmoke smell was getting stronger. Ranboo glanced around at the skyline, unable to see a source over the cliffs. “Are you–” Step. “–going to get–” Step. “–in the way of that?” Step. </p><p>“N-no, sir, but–”</p><p>A loud crack resounded through the quarry. Everything stopped. To Ranboo’s left, Tommy fell to the ground. The beam holding up the barrel above them – above them, oh gods, <em> right </em>above them – was charred all the way through, snapped in two with flames starting to climb towards the top. How– how did– </p><p>The barrel swayed dangerously and started to fall. The latticework keeping the aqueducts up began to burn. The lock on the dam was starting to catch. Oh, <em> gods. </em></p><p>At the top of the ledge, Techno was looking for an out. The collapsing aqueducts would have to do. He started to slide down one of the waterways, the beams breaking behind him. The guards yelled after him, but it was too late. He was already halfway down. The lock on the dam was fully in flames. The barrel atop the water tower started to fall. Ranboo grabbed Tommy’s wrist, tugging him to his feet and pulling him towards the tunnel. </p><p>Behind him, the sound of wood splintering. He looked back to see Techno jump the remaining distance down, somersaulting as he hit the ground and not losing any momentum. Ranboo watched in shock as Techno ran for the tunnel, managing to get inside before the light was suddenly cut off. The barrel. It was– it was blocking–</p><p>The sound of rushing water suddenly became deafening. The dam lock. Oh, gods, <em> no. </em>In the dim light left in Techno’s lantern, Ranboo could see water starting to push through the cracks in the barrel. No, no, no, this couldn’t– Techno was still running. They needed to keep running. There would be an exit, they’d find an exit. It would be fine. It would be fine!</p><p>They ran down the dark tunnel, barely able to see the ground in front of them. Their footsteps echoed off the stone walls, the water echoing louder, the floor slowly getting covered in water.  Ranboo’s boots were waterproof. He’d be fine, he’d be fine. Maybe. Probably.</p><p>The other end of the tunnel should have been coming up soon. There had been a cave-in. The tunnel was blocked off by a large pile of rock. No, <em> no. </em> Tommy slammed his frying pan against the stones, cast iron denting with how much force behind each swing, but it did nothing. The water was still rising. He swore in frustration, throwing the busted pan back down where they came. It hissed and steamed as it hit the ground.</p><p>The water brushed their ankles. Tommy was still swearing, starting to pace up and down in the section of tunnel they had left. His words didn’t make any sense, even through Ranboo’s panic.</p><p>“He was right, he was <em> right, </em> I shouldn’t have left, he knew and he was right and–” Tommy paced back and forth, tugging at his hair, hitting his forehead with the heel of his hand. “I <em> left </em> and he told me <em> not to </em> and now we’re going to– he was right, I wasn’t ready and now– this is all–” He laughed, weak. “This is all my fault.” He threw his hands in the air. “This is all my fault!”</p><p>Techno was trying to pull the rocks away, but the water was still rising. Some wouldn’t come away. There were too many. The water was up to their knees now. Ranboo hissed in pain, water starting to touch his skin. Gods, he was going to die, he was going to die and he was going to be in agony the entire time. It didn’t <em> hurt, </em> not <em> yet, </em>but it would. It would very, very soon.</p><p>Gods, it was selfish. Gods, fuck, it was selfish, but he still fucking did it. He tried to teleport away. To see if there was something on the other side. He couldn’t– he couldn’t visualize the other side. He didn’t have the energy. He didn’t have the strength. He tried again, winding up back in the same spot every time. He couldn’t hold back the scream of frustration, fear, pain. The sound echoed off the walls, off the water. It was starting to sting.</p><p>They were stuck. </p><p>Tommy’s panicked pacing slowed to a stop. He was quiet. There was only the sound of the water, still rising. It was up to their waists, now. The lantern fell away, and went out.</p><p>“Well.” Ranboo surprised himself as he spoke. “Anything we want to share, in our last moments?” Silence. “I can go first.” Nothing. He took a deep breath – the water hit his hand. He hissed again, panic flaring up in his chest. “I don’t know where I came from. My memory’s– gods, <em> terrible, fuck, </em>I barely know who I am.” It felt so weak to say. It felt so shameful. “Thought I could– start stealing things and make a name for myself, but now I’m–” He cut himself off with another chirp, unable to stop it.</p><p>Halfway up their chests. </p><p>“I couldn’t save my brothers.” Techno’s voice was quiet. A soft, guilty admission. “I wasn’t up fast enough. Got caught off guard. They’re dead n’ it’s my fault.” A sniffle. “‘M older now than my brother was when he died.” It was too dark to really see anything, but that outline of the young man was back. His eyes were sad. He was reaching for Techno. But– no, that wasn’t possible. It was just Ranboo’s imagination, it had to be. He didn’t see anything. “And– and I’ve been tellin’ myself that one might still be alive, but I know he’s not.” He laughed, spiteful. “We’re not goin’ to find him. Couldn’t even find the bastard who did it. It’s been ten years.” Techno rubbed his hands over his eyes, sighing. “And I’m just gonna fuckin’ disappear on the– the anniversary. Because I was too busy avoidin’ acceptin’ it.” </p><p>Up to their necks.</p><p>“I caused the flood,” Tommy said. Ranboo looked to where his voice was coming from. “I’ve got these– shitty fuckin’ fire powers. Got gave away because of it. Dream– he– he said I wasn’t ready yet an’ if I could, y’know, <em>not set shit on fire </em>I’d be able to– to try an’ find ‘em again, <em>not that they wanted me?” </em>He made a strangled, hysterical noise. “Maybe I could give ‘em hell for it but– but only <em>after </em>I could control it. And if I’m– I’m stressed out or mad it just– <em>happens</em> and I <em>can’t </em>control it, I’m always settin’ shit on fire and–” In the dark, Ranboo could have sworn Tommy’s eyes went wide. “And it makes my hair glow.”</p><p>“What.” Techno’s voice was flat in the way that meant he was beside himself. Ranboo could almost laugh at the absurdity; it became a gasp of pain, instead.</p><p>Up to their mouths, nearly.</p><p>“My– my hair glows, if– if I focus enough, I can–” Tommy took a few deep breaths, before going quiet. The water was up to their eyes. Ranboo took a final deep breath with the last bit of air in the tunnel. What a miserable way to die.</p><p>There was light. Ranboo opened his eyes, the water stinging but– yeah. Yep. This was happening.</p><p>Tommy’s hair was glowing. </p><p>Techno’s eyes were wide, shocked. Ranboo imagined he looked similar. Tommy pointed, swimming down. There was a spot in the rocks. There was a spot in the rocks where the water was getting sucked out. He pulled at the stones, starting to pull them away. Techno started pulling at them, the gap getting wider. Ranboo could only move a few, the water rushing past him, burning worse than any fire could.</p><p>The glow faded. Ranboo blacked out.</p>
<hr/><p>Techno woke up to his older brother throwing his door open and saying <em> something </em> before running out again. He sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Down the hall, Wilbur kicked a door down. What the hell? He could hear Wilbur talking to someone, and that someone responding, and it wasn’t a voice Techno knew. He took the knife from his desk and started down the hall. The bruise on his ribs ached; he’d been hit wrong while sparring that day, and it hurt to move. </p><p>He heard metal skitter against stone, and a muttered curse. Impact. Techno tried to move faster, heart pounding, eyes wide. A snarl. A gasp. A soft, amused chuckle. He was almost there, he was almost there. </p><p>The sound of a sword being driven through flesh. A choked-off cry.</p><p>Techno entered the room just in time to see a figure in a green cloak with a white, smiling mask pull a sword from his brother’s abdomen, toss the sword away, and throw his brother to the ground. The clatter of metal on a wooden floor. Impact. Techno rushed to his side, but Wilbur shook his head. He was– he would be fine. He would be fine. He had to be fine. Never mind the red blooming on his yellow sweater.</p><p>The masked figure was still staring down at them, now holding the sleeping Tommy. Techno stood, brandishing his knife. </p><p>“Put him down, and get out,” he growled, advancing a step. The figure laughed - not a quiet chuckle, but a real laugh. Mocking.</p><p>“You won’t be able to fight me and still manage to save your brother. You can’t win this one.”</p><p>“You think I won’t try?”</p><p>The masked figure sighed again, a metaphysical eye roll. “He did.” He gestured to Wilbur, whose breathing had gone panicked. The red stain had grown. “And look where he wound up. Bleeding out on a nursery floor.” Techno tried to lunge, but the figure raised a shadowy hand; Techno seized in pain, dropping to the ground. Something was happening, something was wrong, and it <em> hurt. </em> The figure shook his head, standing on the windowsill. “Keep it as a reminder,” he said, and vanished over the ledge.</p><p>“Shit, shit, fuck,” Techno muttered, crawling the last few feet over to his brother. He sat him up, the elder prince inhaling sharply. “Wil?”</p><p>Wilbur blinked up at him slowly, a smile crossing his face. “Hey, Technoblade.” He winced in pain, breaths becoming shallower and shallower. His eyes closed for a moment, but Techno shook him.</p><p>“Stay with me. You’ll be fine, you just gotta stay awake. Stay awake, please–” Wilbur touched the wound through his sweater, his hand coming away red. </p><p>“That’s… not good,” he said, looking up at Techno.</p><p>“It’ll be fine, you’re gonna be fine. Dad’s on his way, he’ll–” </p><p>“Dad’s on his way?” Wilbur’s voice was weak. Techno held him closer. “Alright. Good.” His eyes started to droop shut again, his forehead pressed to Techno’s side. “I’m gonna… rest, for a moment.” His voice was getting quieter with each word. Techno could hear shouting down the hall, the sound of people running. “Just… wake me up when he’s here.” </p><p>“He’ll be here any second, you can stay awake for another minute, please, please, don’t–” </p><p>Wilbur’s hand dropped to the floor. </p><p>Rumors spread quickly throughout the castle, differing accounts, but all of them ended the same way:</p><p>The eldest prince had been slain, the second eldest cursed, and the youngest taken. One compass remained on the nightstand, pointing to the prince still sleeping soundly in his bed.</p>
<hr/><p>Techno gasped. He hauled himself onto the bank of the stream, coughing violently.</p><p>It was sunset.</p><p>Summer air had never tasted sweeter.</p><p>His braid had been pulled loose, hair plastered to his face and tangled in his gear. His gear, which was, of course, completely drenched. Fuck.</p><p>He looked around, taking in his surroundings – base of a mountain, bank of a stream, middle of a forest, west of Niki’s. Closer to the city. Good. To his right, a loud, hacking cough, with intermittent swearing. Tommy. Alright, good. To his left–</p><p>
  <em> Shit. </em>
</p><p>Techno moved through the water faster than he reasonably should have been able to toward Ranboo. The kid was a little further up the stream, half out of the water, unconscious. He always avoided water, he was freaking out in the cave, Techno <em> knew </em> water wasn’t good for the kid and the kid almost <em> drowned. </em>He dragged Ranboo onto the bank of the stream, careful to not jostle him any further. The white side of his face was covered in angry red marks, and there was a… hand-shaped burn on his wrist? That’s. Weird. He was breathing, though, which was what mattered, even if it was shallow. He was breathing, which meant he was alive, which meant Techno wouldn’t lose another associate. Good. </p><p>Gods. He really had poured his heart out in there, hadn’t he. He was selfish. He had always been selfish. What were the chances Tommy would tease him about this? Pretty high, probably. Then again, they’d all gone into deep dark secret territory. Emotions weren’t Techno’s thing. <em> Gods, </em> even <em> blaming himself </em>was selfish. They’d get home and he would never take anything for granted again. Apologize to Tubbo. Apologize to Phil. Gods, he was a piece of shit. Hadn’t even apologized to his father. He’d apologized to Wilbur plenty. And to– to his other brother, but now that brother was– </p><p>Ranboo’s eyes shot open; he heaved a deep breath, sitting up and coughing sharply. Techno jumped and sat back, not bothering to hide his concern. It wasn’t like the kid was paying attention, anyway. He was too busy remembering how to breathe. As he moved, Techno could see that Ranboo had similar abrasions on the other side of his face as well, lime green against deep black. Huh. Alright. That’s... got to hurt. Ranboo didn’t seem to notice, not yet. He was too busy swinging his bag around and rifling through the contents.</p><p>“Where– where is it?” He dug through his waterlogged pack, muttering and tossing out items at random. “Where’s–” Another bout of coughing, another pained chirp. “– Did– did I lose it? Is it– where–?” His shoulders slumped, panic draining from him instantly. Still talking to himself, he pulled his notebook from the bag, flipping through the waterproofed pages. “Okay. Okay. All here. All good. That was– phew, alright, that’s– okay. All here.” He put the book back in the bag, wincing as he moved. “Oh, ow. Oh, that’s bad.” He touches the side of his face, fingers coming away with the slightest trace of green blood. “Huh! That’s not good.” Techno shifted awkwardly, not wanting to startle the kid. He still jumped, eyes wide, clutching the bag to his chest. “Techno.”</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“You’re alive.”</p><p>“Yep.” </p><p>“He’s alive, too.” Ranboo looked towards Tommy; the boy wasn’t paying attention, clutching something on a chain around his neck. “...And his hair glows.”</p><p>Right.</p><p>“...Yep.” Techno grimaced at that one. Tommy’s hair glows. Of course. It just– <em> had </em>to glow. Shaking his head, Techno called over to the boy. “Hey. Tommy. You doin’ okay?” </p><p>Tommy looked up quickly, stuffing the… necklace? back under his shirt and standing up. He strolled over, confidence in his posture but apprehension still in his eyes.</p><p>“My friends!” he crowed, jovial in the same way Techno’s brother always was when he was stressed out, “You’ve made it out! We were almost afraid you’d get lost without us.” He gave a smarmy look to the air next to him, elbowing someone <em> (Wil, </em> Techno’s brain supplies,) in the invisible side. “If it weren’t for <em> my </em>quick thinking, we’d still be in there! Thank me at your own convenience.” </p><p>That was not an answer. Techno rolled his eyes, huffing a short breath and turning back to Ranboo.</p><p>“Will you be alright if I leave you with him for a few minutes?” he said quietly, nodding towards Tommy. Ranboo nodded, but winced again. Another pang of worry shot through Techno’s heart. “...Are you, uh. Alright. In general.”</p><p>“I’ll be fine. Sleep it off.” Techno pursed his lips. Also not an answer. Teenagers. The kid met his eyes for a moment, glanced back to Tommy, and then to his bag. “Techno...” Techno hummed. “His hair glows. He–”</p><p>“I know,” he scowled, standing. They were on the edge of a thicket of trees. Should be firewood in there. He spared one last glance towards his apprentice, then to his– to Tommy. “I’m going to set up camp.”</p><p>He pulled the hatchet from his belt, and stalked away from the streambank.</p>
<hr/><p>By the time Dream arrived at the quarry, royal guards were already patrolling the area. The dam had been hastily locked; he could see city carpenters and what appeared to be an overworked mage securing wooden beams into place, holding the water at bay. The aqueducts were in waterlogged pieces all around. Several supports had been scorched, the lock burned away. The floodwaters had drained, leaving puddles all over the bottom of the quarry. A harrowed-looking soldier was talking to a man with a notebook, pointing at a large, collapsed barrel, which appeared to be blocking another tunnel. It was hard to hear, but the words <em> they went in there, I think they got trapped </em>echoed off the stone walls, sending a spike of fear through Dream’s core.</p><p>George reappeared at the top of the cliff, still dressed like a soldier. He dropped the disguise, removing a pair of dark glasses from his pocket to clean them.</p><p>“They went into the tunnel,” George said. The exact opposite of what Dream wanted to hear. He gripped his axe tighter, leather binding creaking under his hand. “It goes for about half a mile, but there was a cave-in a few months ago.” Even worse. George looked up at Dream for a moment, blank eyes meeting mask, before he replaced the glasses. He shrugged. “Not much we can do.”</p><p>Sapnap cleared his throat.</p><p>“He’s still alive. You’d have felt it if he wasn’t.” True. Dream didn’t relax. “And they’re on the other side. Must have gotten through the block.” </p><p>The sun was red, dipping below the treeline. Dream could only just make out the peaks of the castle. </p><p>“Hang back. Keep to the tops of the cliffs. I’m going down below.” Dream was calm. He was collected. He was in control. He had to be in control.  Ant pressed a weakness potion into his hand. </p><p>“Just in case.” </p><p>Dream nodded once, tucking the potion into his belt. As he drifted away, he could hear Bad giving instructions to the others, not dissimilar from how he did before the Hunt. Hushed, pointed, easy to follow. </p><p>Tommy wasn’t far off. He wasn’t alone, but that wouldn’t be an issue. As much as Dream liked the tower, it obviously hadn’t been good enough. There were plenty of places they could go. He slipped into the treeline, and vanished from sight.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>tommy: yeah dream said people tried to steal me as a baby<br/>(ten years earlier)<br/>wilbur: dream stop stealing that baby</p><p>ranboo's favorite woman is the ender dragon, and the worst swear he can think of is 'short'. just enderman things.</p><p>work is started on chapter 5, hopefully we'll have it out a little sooner! things got hectic this month lol. thank you all so much for the kudos, comments, subscriptions, everything! we love seeing everything you have to say and love sharing what we've made &lt;333333 see you soon!</p><p>next time: technoblade voice i am having a panic attack</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Don't Let Him Deceive You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A monster sets up camp and leaves to get firewood. A demon lurks in the forest. A ghost, a shadow, and a firestarter grow close.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey there! backstory time part two. the promised technoblade breakdown chapter. some quick cws: mild blood, discussions of death/murder, implied abandonment, self loathing, panic attacks, very minor accidental self harm, gaslighting, and manipulation. if we could put the "manipulative dream" tag in bold we would, because. oh baby. chapter title from mother knows best (reprise)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Everything hurt. Not too bad! Just a sting, really! But, uh. But it did hurt. Ranboo knew he could sleep it off. Just get a little rest. He’d be fine. But having all of your exposed skin covered in microabrasions and burns from what was, essentially, a genetic allergy wasn’t, well, the most comfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno had set up camp faster than Ranboo could really process, faster than he’d seen him do on any other occasion that they had to camp. He had been silent as he set up a circle of rocks for the fire, collected a few fallen branches for kindling, and cleared a spot for Ranboo to sit. He only spoke once everything was in place, curt and to the point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do your thing.” Said in Tommy’s direction. “I’m getting firewood.” And then he was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy lit the fire without question, almost mechanical. He was sitting in front of it now. He had been quiet for some time, just staring. Contemplating, maybe. Sometimes he’d shake his head or flick his hand like he was brushing away a bug, but he didn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gods. Where was Techno when Ranboo needed him. He’d know how to fix a social situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo fidgeted as he sat on his tree stump. Y’know! It wasn’t that bad! He wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> injured. He could feel the miniature lacerations healing already. To prove it to himself, he touched his cheek. It stung like hell. He hissed, pulling his hand back - blood. He’d be fine. Tomorrow, he’d be fine. He just needed to sleep it off. The fire was nice. He could get some rest like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone tapped his shoulder. Ranboo flinched, whipping around to see who it was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a slightly transparent young man, floating a few feet off the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wh–?!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He jumped, falling off the stump and scrambling a few feet back, eyes wide. “What the–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello!” The young man - ghost? - waved at him cheerily, voice echoing faintly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh–” Okay. Ranboo just had to remember how to breathe. Second time he had to do that today! New record. “H-hi?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I startle you?” The ghost frowned, drifting closer. It clicked. The outline of the man in the cavern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, you–” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods, </span>
  </em>
  <span>ow. Blood dripped down Ranboo’s temple. “A little? Who- who are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Right!” The ghost beamed again, standing up straight and sticking out a hand as if in formal introduction. “My name is Ghostbur, you can call me Ghostbur, I am the ghost and you are injured.” Sitting up, arm unsteady, Ranboo shook his hand. There were traces of green on Ghostbur’s palm as he pulled away. “Yes. That is an injury. That looks very bad. I may not know a lot about injuries, but that does not look good.” Ranboo nodded slowly, not quite… comprehending the situation. He was talking to a ghost. Okay. “Mhm, mhm,” Ghostbur hummed and tapped his chin, looking him up and down, “Yes, that looks very uncomfortable.” An understatement. The ghost leaned in, conspiratorial. “You know,” he stage whispered, “Tommy wouldn’t want me to tell you this, he’s always too busy being down on himself, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but </span>
  </em>
  <span>he can do more than </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>fire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo glanced to Tommy; the boy was staring at them. He met Tommy’s eyes for an uneasy half second, before turning back to Ghostbur. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He can?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yes,” Ghostbur said, bangs falling into his eyes. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-two. “He can </span>
  <em>
    <span>heal, </span>
  </em>
  <span>too. Heal </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>he comes across. Bat with a broken wing flew into the tower one night, you should have </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen </span>
  </em>
  <span>the chaos it made, tore </span>
  <em>
    <span>right </span>
  </em>
  <span>through my paper chains, </span>
  <em>
    <span>but–</span>
  </em>
  <span> once it landed. Tommy just closed his eyes and focused on it, and it flew away a few minutes later. Right out the window where it came from. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> was the only one to see it because Dream wasn’t home, but it was very impressive.” The ghost glanced sidelong at Tommy, dropping back into his stage whisper. “Tommy doesn’t like hearing that his abilities are good, he thinks I’m lying since I’m a ghost, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>lie, so it has to be true. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>think it’s because he doesn’t hear that he’s good at having powers very often, but he wouldn’t let </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>on. Never.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the fire, Tommy jolted, a look of hurt briefly flashing across his face. Ranboo got back up, sitting heavily on his tree stump once more. </span>
  <em>
    <span>☌⍜⎅⌇, </span>
  </em>
  <span>⏁⊑⟟⌇ ⍙⏃⌇ ⍙⍜⍀⌇⟒ ⏁⊑⏃⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌰⏃⌇⏁ ⏁⟟⋔⟒. He ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the fact that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>just got blood in it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Last time?” Ghostbur said curiously. Yikes, had he said that out loud? “What last time? It must have been very unpleasant.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was, uh.” Water. Too much of it. Getting pushed. Unable to warp away. “Yeah. It was pretty bad,” Ranboo rasped. He cleared his throat, looking at Tommy. “Is it true?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” The boy immediately became defensive, crossing his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The- the healing thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course it is,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Can’t say I’m all too bloody good at it, but I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>it.” Ghostbur started to protest, but Tommy was already crossing the circle. “I can, y’know. Heal you.” He scuffed his foot against the ground, shrugging with one shoulder. “‘Cause you look like shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feel like it,” Ranboo muttered, and Tommy– snorted. Actually kind of laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, gimme your hand.” The boy held out a hand; Ranboo took it, ignoring how the movement made him wince. “Alright. Here goes.” Tommy took a deep breath, closing his eyes. Ranboo watched as his hair started to glow like it had in the cavern; the power flowed down to his arm, a soft golden light surrounding him. It was… comfortable. It was kind of nice, even. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo’s skin prickled for a moment. The glow faded. So did the pain. Ranboo moved his hand. It didn’t hurt. He touched his face. No new blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See!” Ghostbur said, “I told you! Tommy is </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>good at what he does.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut it,” Tommy groaned, but he was proud of himself, Ranboo could tell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The blood was starting to congeal. Gross.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m gonna, uh.” Ranboo stood, grabbing a kerchief from his pocket. His clothes were dry. Tommy’s were too. Huh. “Clean up real fast.” He dusted himself off superficially, before looking at Tommy. “And, thanks. I mean it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“S’no problem.” The boy shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. Ranboo took that as his cue to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The edge of the stream wasn’t too far from where they’d set up. The water prickled against his skin as he got the cloth damp, only slightly unpleasant as he cleaned up. No more blood, red mixing with bright green against the white fabric. He’d have to burn the kerchief when he was done, there would be no getting those stains out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Some rest would do him well. Techno would come back with the firewood, they could all sleep, no big deal. What a day it had been. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Once Ranboo was out of earshot, Tommy sharply turned to Ghostbur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell was that?!” he half-shouted, half-whispered. The ghost blinked at him, feigning innocence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I haven’t the slightest idea what you mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit you don’t.” Tommy rolled his eyes, crossing his arms with a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on. You’re not mad, I know you’re not.” Ghostbur drifted closer, reaching out to pinch Tommy’s cheek. The boy swatted his hand away, making him laugh and dodge the half-hearted attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, maybe I’m not.” Tommy rolled his eyes again, but he couldn’t help smiling, just a little. He tapped his knee a few times, glancing over to the stream. “...Why did you show yourself to him? And how come you know everything he says when he makes those weird noises?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fluent in Ender,” Ghostbur said with a shrug, as if that didn’t raise more questions, “I think my dad made me learn it? He said it was important or something. I don’t know. But Ranboo’s speaking Ender. Not sure where he’s from, he didn’t speak enough for me to tell the dialect. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure how he </span>
  <em>
    <span>got </span>
  </em>
  <span>here, the recorded Enderman population is very low in this area.” Tommy stared at him, unsure how to interrupt. Ghostbur kept talking. “I used to be very good at that, you know, placing accents and dialects. Any time someone with an accent would come around, I’d be able to say, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, you, you’re from up north, </span>
  </em>
  <span>or, </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh, hey, that guy’s from across the sea. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I was very good with geography.” He paused, thinking for a moment. “You know…” he said, puzzled, “I’m not quite sure I know where Dream’s accent is from. I’ve heard it before, but I couldn’t tell you the location. It’s nowhere </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve </span>
  </em>
  <span>visited, at least.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t answer my other question, prick.” Tommy had a lot of questions, actually. Why was Ghostbur familiar with the recorded Enderman population of the local area? What </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>an Enderman, and why was Ranboo one? Why did Ghostbur speak Ender in the first place? Did he speak other languages? Who was his father? Why did he need to know where accents were from? Where had he visited? What did he remember from his life? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who... </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>he? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Ghostbur had that innocent look again. He’d never done anything wrong in his life, that look said. Tommy didn’t believe it for a second. “Oh, yes, right. Why I let him see me. I think it’s quite obvious.” He looked around briefly, checking their surroundings, wringing his hands all the while. “It’s because Technoblade isn’t here. And I’m a little worried about him seeing me? I’d much rather not make him upset.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would that make him upset?” No, there was something a little more pressing on Tommy’s mind. “Actually, wait, why did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know his name </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the first place, hm? Feels like there’s something you’re not telling me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ghostbur froze. Tommy hadn’t noticed it before, but his hands were stained a deep, dark blue. Several expressions passed over his face in rapid succession - fear, panic, grief, confusion, genuine puzzlement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I–” Blue dripped from his hands, vanishing as it hit the clearing floor. “I don’t know. I just– did.” Ghostbur let out a nervous chuckle, glancing at Tommy through his bangs. “I mean– there’s a lot of things. That I don’t know how I know. But– you’ve got stuff like that too!” Ghostbur rounded on him, pointing a blue-stained finger. “I never told you to call me Wil, but you still do. And you always have, you always knew it was a nickname for me, isn’t that strange, mhm, I think it is, quite strange indeed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wh–” It was true. Tommy had always known that Ghostbur was called Wil. He… he didn’t know how he knew that. It had to be short for something, right? “Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>never tell me anything, anyway! Maybe I just </span>
  <em>
    <span>made it up, </span>
  </em>
  <span>and you went with it! Not like you let me in on whatever little secrets you’re keeping in that empty head of yours!” Ghostbur gasped, affronted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, at least I’m not some foolish </span>
  <em>
    <span>child, </span>
  </em>
  <span>who–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>a child, you stupid undead son of a–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, guys?” They both stopped, turning slowly. Ranboo had returned. “What’s, uh. What’s goin’ on over here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing!!” Ghostbur said, high pitched and nervous. He tried to shove Tommy aside, hands passing through the teen’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Actually,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy interrupted, entirely unphased, “we were talking about Ghostbur’s sudden decision to let you see him, and his entirely vague and presumably tragic backstory that he has refused to share for as long as I’ve known him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…Huh.” As good a response as Ranboo could have given, given the circumstances. He’d just found out ghosts were real, after all. And that Tommy didn’t just have some ‘imaginary friend.’ Someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>else</span>
  </em>
  <span> could see Ghostbur, take </span>
  <em>
    <span>that, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream. “I mean,” he said slowly, watching Tommy’s reaction, “We </span>
  <em>
    <span>all </span>
  </em>
  <span>shared bits of our… tragic backstories?” Tommy nodded enthusiastically, liking where this was going. “So, it only makes sense if, uh. If you tell us stuff, too, Ghostbur.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>score, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>he liked this guy for a reason, he knew Ranboo would be some kind of genius. They both looked to Ghostbur expectantly. The ghost glared back at them, but Tommy knew that face. It was the face of someone who really </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>to argue with the logic presented to him, but absolutely </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It wouldn’t be fair, now, would it? Everybody else shared, after all. After a moment, Ghostbur raked a hand through his hair, tilting his head back in exasperation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fiiiiiiiine,” he groaned. Tommy cheered, punching Ranboo in the shoulder. The older teen stumbled sideways from the force, looking momentarily bewildered, but smiled when he saw Tommy’s grin. Ghostbur tutted, shaking his head. Tommy flipped him off, tugging Ranboo back over to the campfire. Oh, he was excited now, this must be like one of those </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep-overs </span>
  </em>
  <span>Techno had referred to. He would be the </span>
  <em>
    <span>best </span>
  </em>
  <span>sleep-over host ever. Ghostbur drifted over, still looking annoyed. He didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean </span>
  </em>
  <span>it, he wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>mad, but he could be such a pouty bitch when he felt like it. He had his arms crossed again, glare leveled at the both of them. “I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> be the only one sharing,” he said, pointing at the both of them, “You two both have to give up a secret or something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you already know everything about me, you’ve been with me since–“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>hasn’t.” Ghostbur jabbed his finger at Ranboo, “So you have to.” Tommy snarled under his breath, no heat behind it; Ghostbur stuck out his tongue at him, but settled by the fire. He seemed to think for a moment, and frowned. “Well…” he hazarded, “What do you want to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy want to know. He wanted to know </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do you know Technoblade, and why did you know his whole name before he told us?” Start simple. It only makes sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh.” Ghostbur shrunk slightly into himself, looking anywhere but at Tommy. “About that.” He chuckled awkwardly, arms conveniently covering that spot under his ribs. “I don’t… know?” Tommy frowned, leaning forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean you don’t know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean…” The ghost met his eye for a second, before looking back down. “I recognize him, and- and trust him? But–” Ghostbur shrank further, shoulders hunched. “–but he looks </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I don’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>and it’s stressful because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>him but I can’t remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>what’s wrong </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>why </span>
  </em>
  <span>I think it’s wrong or how I even know him.” He shrugged violently, wringing his hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...What do you mean, </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ranboo said hesitantly, “You don’t mean the, uh.” He gestured at his mouth in an imitation of fangs. Ghostbur shook his head, sitting up straighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the thing! I- I </span>
  <em>
    <span>remember </span>
  </em>
  <span>that. I remember the- the tusks. But he’s…” He paused, thinking. “Older? He looks older and sadder, and it’s not… right.” He huffed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “But that doesn’t matter. All I know is that he’s important to me, I’d trust him with my life, and protect him with it, too.” Another moment passed. The fire crackled. “It’s like... It’s like how when I saw you–” He met Tommy’s eye. “–when you were little. I didn’t know who you were, but I knew your name and that I was supposed to protect you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy couldn’t remember that time all too well. He remembered being scared and hugging Ghostbur a lot, but it’s fuzzy. His muscle memory had been weird, too; he’d get excited and look over his shoulder for someone, but no one would ever be there. Dream would be there. Ghostbur had been quieter, then. He wasn’t as chatty, and would only appear at night, when Dream wasn’t around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shit, the other two were staring. Tommy straightened up, clearing his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes, “Be kinda fucked up if you didn’t. I was, what, six? Kinda fucked up if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to protect me, I was all cute n’ shit.” Tommy wouldn’t consider himself calculating or necessarily clever by any means, but that move, the causal flippancy, completely paid off. The tension broke; Ranboo snorted, making Ghostbur chuckle, and Tommy allowed himself a small smile as well. No problems here, they’re all causal and relaxed now. He was doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>great at this </span>
  <em>
    <span>socializing </span>
  </em>
  <span>thing. He wouldn’t look </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>excited about it, but he definitely felt it. Once the laughter had died down, he hazarded another question. “What about you, Ranboo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s your deal? Your </span>
  <em>
    <span>story, </span>
  </em>
  <span>as it were.” The older teen tilted his head at the question, sitting a little further forward, considering. He opened his mouth as if to speak. Closed it again. Held up a finger and grabbed his bag. Tommy exchanged a look with Ghostbur, eyebrows raised. After another few seconds, Ranboo fished that little book out of his pack, flipping through the earliest pages. “I- I didn’t mean literally, mate, what’s–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no, uh,” he started, pointing to a spot on the page, “I’ve got a really bad memory. No one really, uh, knows why? But my memory sucks. The book is meant to help with that? So, y’know, if I got lost again, I’d be able to find out my name and basic information and stuff.” Tommy didn’t like the implications of getting lost </span>
  <em>
    <span>again. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ranboo read from the page, matter of fact. “‘Your name is Ranboo, you are half Enderman, half something else, you are from the East Quarter of the Northern Empire’s capital city. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>a last name but you don’t know how to write it. You are probably seventeen.’ That one gets changed a lot, look.” He turned the journal to show Tommy; the spot that showed his possible age has several numbers beside the current one crossed out - fourteen, fifteen, sixteen. “Every year, obviously. The, uh, the matrons at the orphanage didn’t give me a birthday, they just kind of assumed my age when they got me.” He took the journal back, flipping through another few pages. “‘Your friends are Niki, Crumb, Technoblade, Fundy, Ser Eret, and Captain Puffy. Find one of them if you are lost.’” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ghostbur perked up at those middle two names, studying Ranboo intently as he continued. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s, uh, there’s a little chart in here? For who I should find depending on where I’m found.” Ranboo chuckled, scanning further down the page. “Rest of it’s kinda boring? ‘You are allergic to water, you hate eye contact, your favorite food is Niki’s baked potatoes, and you are’…” He trailed off, laughing sheepishly. “Well. This part’s just about my current profession or circumstances. ‘Traveling with Technoblade’ is the current one.” Tommy had a feeling that this was not entirely true. “But, yeah! That’s the basic stuff. Otherwise, y’know... Got found outside the city when I was little, got taken in by some orphanage, started stealing things when I was, like, twelve. And now I’m here!” He laughed again, giving Tommy a painfully genuine smile. “Obviously there’s stuff in the middle of all that, but it’s not the </span>
  <em>
    <span>basic </span>
  </em>
  <span>stuff. Day to day and whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ghostbur was still staring at Ranboo, like he was trying to figure the other out. Tommy still didn’t know what an Enderman was. He turned to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wil?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ghostbur blinked a couple times, shaken out of his concentration. Maybe Tommy could ask later. But it’s too late now, he’d have to ask something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…Somethin’ on your mind?” The ghost looked conflicted, unsure if he wanted to answer the question. Tommy kept his tone light, not wanting to scare him off. Or make him do that blue thing again. “It’s cool if you want me to share first. You know how much crazy backstory I got. ‘m sure I could find </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>to talk about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no…” Ghostbur said, shaking his head slowly, “I just… recognize those names. Fundy and Eret.” Ranboo hummed, two-toned eyes wide with curiosity. “I, uh. I didn’t know Eret got knighted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eret’s the one who found me!” Ranboo chirped, smiling, “Their training group found me in the woods during a lesson. I was… seven? Ish? With no memory except my name. And they brought me to Puffy who brought me to the orphanage. Eret couldn’t train me, they were already training Fundy and had their </span>
  <em>
    <span>own </span>
  </em>
  <span>stuff to work on, but they’d both visit me when I was younger.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Ghostbur was silent. After a moment, he excused himself and wandered away, drifting towards the treeline. Tommy pretended he didn’t see him scrub an arm over his face, and that he didn’t see the sleeve come away stained blue. He looked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s kind of funny, y’know,” he said, giving Ranboo a crooked grin, “I can’t remember anything from before I was six, either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…Huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know, </span>
  </em>
  <span>right?” He shrugged, looking at the fire. “Dream says it’s because stuff was super stressful back then? Like, I was too little to understand it, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>I almost got kidnapped, so it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>probably </span>
  </em>
  <span>better that I don’t remember? Which makes sense, I guess.” He shrugged again. “Kinda remember my dad? He was blond like me. N’ had a little beard type thing,” he said, gesturing at his chin, “Can’t remember shit about my mum. Dream said I had one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Techno caught me trying to steal his stuff,” Ranboo admitted. It caught Tommy off guard, making him laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And he didn’t kill you immediately?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know! I thought I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>dead.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>The older teen grinned. “But I guess he recognized me from town or, y’know, kinda… understood? Because I was also an outsider. I’m weird, he’s weird, that kinda thing.” He relaxed a little. “Monster types gotta stick together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But–” Tommy made a face, trying to process that. “–you’re not monsters?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ranboo scoffed. “Might as well be. Cursed, monsterborn, full monster, same difference. We’re scary, it’s all they see. You should </span>
  <em>
    <span>hear </span>
  </em>
  <span>the stuff they say about him in the city. The older kids at the orphanage told us he was the monster under the bed. Y’know, stay up past lights out and you’d get eaten kinda thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I remember living in the city,” Tommy said abruptly. He rubbed at his temple, making a face. Ranboo raised his eyebrows, gesturing for him to go on. “It’s… foggy? It’s all unclear, but I remember big, stone buildings with all these little flags hung between ‘em, and runnin’ around with someone. Y’know, bein’ a little kid and hiding n’ shit. I guess…” He laughed mournfully, shaking his head. “I guess I had friends? And people who cared about me?” He didn’t know who he was mourning. “Be kinda weird to play hide n’ seek or whatever by yourself. So I </span>
  <em>
    <span>probably </span>
  </em>
  <span>had friends.” Tommy knew Ranboo had to be staring at him. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He took the compass from his pocket, examining the glass surface. The needle was, as it was before, pointing towards the city. He turned it over in his hands, running a thumb over the engraved words on the back. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Your Tubbo. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The name tugged at something in Tommy’s memory, something he couldn’t place. His gaze didn’t leave the pewter, the words, as he spoke. “There was this time, when I was little.” Ranboo hummed. Good. He was still there. “Where a bee flew up to the tower and started checkin’ out all the flowers we had. And I remember getting all excited, because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>that someone, another kid, would </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>this, and maybe I could tell them about it and we could watch the bee together, but.” Another desolate chuckle. “Who was I gonna tell? I was the only kid up there. And Ghostbur wasn’t visible all too often, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream </span>
  </em>
  <span>certainly didn’t care.” He huffed, glancing up. The other boy was watching him, still careful. “I had that a lot. Of thinkin’ that someone would like something but not knowing who. ‘Specially didn’t work every time Dream reminded me that I got gave away or whatever.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something moved in the woods behind Ranboo’s head. Tommy sat up a little straighter, squinting in the dark. The leaves rustled in the wind, but–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moon briefly caught on something white. Porcelain. Tommy’s heart stopped. He looked harder and– there it was. The outline of a cloak, nearly identical to the color of the forest. It shifted, turned, just at the edge of the treeline. A white circle against a dark background, smile etched into the face. Dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy stood quickly, his vision briefly going dark. He swayed and caught his balance, panic clawing at his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy?” He glanced down, meeting Ranboo’s eye for a half second. The other boy looked confused, worried. He looked back up. Dream was still there. He lifted a hand, beckoning, before heading further into the trees. “You alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold this for me,” he muttered, shoving whatever it was he was holding into Ranboo’s hands as he strode past, “I’ll be right back.”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It was quiet in the woods. Dream’s outline kept moving, never staying in one place too long. Conflicted emotions tore through Tommy’s mind as he followed - anger, frustration, rage. Relief. Fear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why was he here? </span>
  <em>
    <span>How </span>
  </em>
  <span>was he here? How did Dream </span>
  <em>
    <span>find </span>
  </em>
  <span>him? He was going to be furious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Branches pulled at his hair, his shirt, as he raced through the forest, trying to catch up. Dream was out of reach, he was always just out of reach. Tommy’s foot caught on a stray root, sending him stumbling forward as he tried to stay upright. He was in a clearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The moon was bright overhead, Dream’s mask made luminescent. Tommy could barely breathe. It was the running, that’s why. He was running. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t. He took a step forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pure relief washed over Tommy. His shoulders slumped, his posture relaxed, all at one word. It took him by surprise, that relief, and he didn’t hate it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Dream,” he said, voice coming out weak. Dream took a few steps closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wanna tell me why you’re out here?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That relief is immediately replaced with cold dread, chilling him from the inside out. Gods. He fucked up. Everything was suddenly too much – the insects chirping, the wind against his skin, the way the air was slightly humid, his awareness of how Dream’s cloak moved. His breath caught, heart hammering in his chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” he managed, voice strained. He laughed, perhaps a little too loudly, glancing around for a way out. Fuck, shit, why couldn’t he move?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy.” Dream kept just out of arm’s reach, slowly starting to circle him. The disappointment radiated off of him in waves. “We talked about this. That you couldn’t leave until you were older. Until you could prove you were mature and could control your powers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- I can! And I’m plenty m–” he protested, but Dream was already shaking his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I saw the dam, Tommy. All that charred wood.” Fuck, fuck, no. “And, really, you’re mature?” Dream scoffed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Please. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You immediately trusted the first people you met. Looks like you really know how to choose ‘em.” He stopped, standing in front of Tommy once again. “A thief and a killer. Exactly the types I warned you about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A killer? No, no, Dream had to be lying. He started to shake his head, but Dream held up a finger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What makes you think they won’t take your compass and run? Or kill you for it? It’s probably worth a good deal. Imagine the price they could get for it.” Tommy clutched at the compass around his neck, hand shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You- you’re lying, you have to be, Techno wouldn’t– he said he–” Dream cut him off with a sharp laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wouldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>he? You know </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>about him.” He rocked on his heels, cloak swishing softly. “Did he tell you about his brothers?” Tommy nodded, just once. “And what did he tell you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That- that he was too late to save them. B-Before they died.” Dream laughed again, louder, meaner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>believed </span>
  </em>
  <span>him? Gods, you’re more gullible than I thought.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing his hood back in the process. “I know what </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>happened. It was right before we left the city. They didn’t just die, Tommy. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed </span>
  </em>
  <span>them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. No. Tommy took a half step back, shaking his head. But Ranboo had said– no, that was just a rumor, it couldn’t be– Dream took a half step forward.</span>
</p><p><span>“He killed them. That’s why he’s cursed. They never even recovered the youngest prince’s body, that’s how little of him was left. An act like that would turn you into a monster </span><em><span>immediately.</span></em><span> I can’t believe that you’d just </span><em><span>trust </span></em><span>him, that you’d trust </span><em><span>both </span></em><span>of them so fast. I’ve seen the posters. That thief is the most wanted man in the kingdom. He’d make off with your compass before you could even blink.”</span> <span>No. No, something was wrong here. Something was wrong. He didn’t– fuck, he couldn’t think.</span></p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s– Ranboo’s my friend, he wouldn’t–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He </span>
  <em>
    <span>would, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy. You think he’s your friend? Try giving him the compass, see how quickly he leaves.” Another laugh, breathed through the nose. “‘Friend.’ Gods, I can’t believe you’d be so </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Shame hit Tommy like a landslide; he looked away, withering in place. “As if someone else would be patient enough to deal with your shit. As if you could be interesting enough to stay with. They’re only there to hurt you. Both of them.” Dream took another step, another, another, until he was right in front of him. He placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, the same way he had that morning. Fuck. That was only this morning. It took all of Tommy’s will to not flinch. “They’re going to leave, Tommy,” he said gently, “They’re going to hurt you. You know why I made those rules. To protect you. It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>been to protect you. I don’t want you getting hurt.” Tommy nodded slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- I know.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream hummed, content. “Come home, then. We can forget all of this ever happened. It’ll all have been a terrible nightmare, and we’ll be able to put it behind us.” Tommy swallowed, nodding again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’d have to get my things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll make a distraction if you need.” He took a deep, shaking breath, letting it out slowly. A nightmare. Yeah, that would… that would make sense. Almost drowning, it was only a nightmare. At least Dream wasn’t mad, right? He let go of the compass, hand drifting to his pocket. It was empty. Why was it empty?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The second compass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s it. That’s what was wrong. He must have given the second compass to Ranboo in order to follow Dream. He never told him about the compass around his neck. Dream doesn’t know about the second compass. He was lying, he had been lying the entire time, he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dream turned and put his hood back up, about to go back into the camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Actually,” Tommy said, surprised at how strong his voice was. Dream stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want to stay with them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Excuse me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You heard me.” There was that confidence. He could do this. He could do this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want… to stay with them.” Doubt dripped from Dream’s every word.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re fuckin’ lying, man.” Momentum. He had to keep building momentum. “Every single thing you’ve said, I don’t believe you, you’re fuckin’ lying!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what if I’m not? What if they rob you blind, what will you do then? Come </span>
  <em>
    <span>on,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Tommy. We don’t have to do this.” He was getting impatient.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to stay with them,” Tommy said firmly, ignoring the way his palms were starting to burn, “I’m staying with them, Dream. I can’t go back yet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Even if all they want is to hurt you?” Dream’s composure was breaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do I know,” Tommy growled, “that you haven’t been lying to me my entire life. Tell me, Dream. Why. Should I. Believe you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine!” Dream said, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine, stay with them! But when they leave, </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>say I didn’t warn you.” He made a dismissive motion with his hand. “You know where to find me.” Oh, Tommy knew. Rage bubbled in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine!” he shouted, “I will! I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>stay with them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream tsked at him. The rage grew, threatening to boil over. His mentor spared him one last glance, before turning and walking out of the clearing. Tommy didn’t even bother to watch him go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t contain the anger any longer, punching the nearest tree with a shout. The bark split the skin on his knuckles, but the fist-shaped burn was payback enough. He breathed hard, every part of him conflicted and scared and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking pissed. </span>
  </em>
  <span>How </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream think he could lie like that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods, </span>
  </em>
  <span>that bastard really fucking tried, huh. Taking a deep breath, Tommy allowed himself to focus, the skin on his knuckles healing a moment later. He wiped the blood off on his pants, and trudged back to camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ghostbur had returned by the time he got back, and was chatting amiably with Ranboo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy!” he called, happy as fucking always, “You’ll never believe the stories Ranboo’s been–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not in the mood for it, Wil.” Tommy dumped the few twigs he’d collected on the walk there into the flames, stoking them higher with nothing but his bare hands. The fire roared, before settling down into something more reasonable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is everything alright?” Ranboo asked hesitantly. Tommy didn’t even look at him, getting the bedroll from his pack and laying it out beside the fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuckin’ peachy,” he snarled, laying down, “I’m going to sleep now. Don’t wake me up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his luck, they didn’t. The bedroll was mostly dry. Tommy’s anger fizzled out until he was just... tired. Tired, frustrated, but he didn’t have the energy for it. He fell asleep, and tried not to think about anything, </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything </span>
  </em>
  <span>Dream had told him.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy's hair glowed.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chop. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He had abilities related to fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His companion was a ghost.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chop. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The ghost's name was Ghostbur, but Tommy called him Wil.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn't remember his family very well.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He was raised by a sorcerer.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sorcerer always wore a cloak and mask.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Chop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His name was Dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Chop. </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Technoblade straightened up, gathering the kindling into a bundle. He couldn’t deny it any longer. He returned the hatchet to its place on his belt. He had to face the facts. He picked up the bundle of sticks, and started heading back to their camp. Tommy was his youngest brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s all there was to it. That’s all there ever would be to it. His youngest brother was alive and was returning to the city. He had done it. He’d completed his quest. He could stop being a selfish asshole and ascend to the throne. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ten years. Ten years, and he’d only been a few hours walk outside of the city. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno let his forehead </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk </span>
  </em>
  <span>against the side of a tree, a low, rumbling sigh leaving him. Fuck. He couldn’t keep beating himself up about this. He was fourteen. What could he have done? </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Could have put more pressure on the wound, </span>
  </em>
  <span>said the traitorous little thoughts in his head, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Could have called for help. Or kept him awake longer.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was too late,” he muttered, words mangled around his tusks, “I couldn’t have stopped it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The castle staff had scrubbed the floorboards until the bloodstain was gone. The door was locked, and hadn’t been opened since. Tubbo didn’t wake up until after the funeral. It had been three days. The first searches for Tommy had begun shortly after. Phil had forbade Techno from going, and Techno hated him for it. He’d find Tommy, one day. He swore it to himself. He’d find Tommy, and he’d fucking kill the bastard who killed Wilbur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knew that bastard’s name now. He knew what he looked like, and where he lived. If they had to bring Tommy back to the tower, so be it, but Techno would </span>
  <em>
    <span>stay there </span>
  </em>
  <span>until Dream got back. He’d stay there, and he’d kill Dream, and he’d bring Tommy back to the castle. Not like the kid would go with him right now, not yet, but they’d figure it out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno wouldn’t get his hopes up. He couldn’t. He couldn’t. If Tommy was serious, if he could actually see Wilbur’s ghost… Techno didn’t know what he’d do. Maybe the ghost just… didn’t want to see him. It would make sense. He wouldn’t want to see himself, either. And it would probably make him sad, more than anything. To see the ghost of your older brother who’s been dead for ten goddamn years. He should be king right now. He should have taken the throne four years ago. His reign would have been peaceful, like Phil’s still was, and the people would have loved him. They already had loved him. They’d thought him smart and brave and kind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wilbur had begged to go on the quest for the flower. He was eighteen, he had to prove himself. Phil had refused, initially, but eventually let him go. Techno insisted on going, too, but he was only eleven. He could barely pick up a sword, much less lead an expedition. Wilbur had ruffled his hair and told him he’d be back before Techno could miss him. He had been a hero.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What had Techno been, in comparison. Guilty, maybe. Rude, antisocial, despondent. Rebellious in the wrong ways. Reckless, irresponsible. Cursed. He had learned to live with it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The glow of the fire was still a little ways off. Techno trudged forward, thoughts still rattling around in his head. He should be happy. He should be happy that he found the one person he had been searching for. He should be happy. Instead, all he felt was that all-consuming guilt. That crushing hollowness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A voice. Brash, defiant tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re fuckin’ lying, man. Every single thing you’ve said, I don’t believe you, you’re fuckin’ lying!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A second voice. An even, condescending tenor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what if I’m not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno’s heart stopped. He knew that voice. It had haunted his every waking moment for a year, and every nightmare for the next nine. He had to breathe. Silently, he crept in the direction of the voices. They were arguing, Techno knew that much, but the words didn’t really mean anything. It was all static to him, the overlapping thoughts of the last ten years and the sounds of Tommy and–  and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream, </span>
  </em>
  <span>this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he heard Tommy say it, this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> – arguing all melding into a buzz. His breathing was too loud. He stepped on a branch, didn’t he? Surely, they’d hear him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped behind a tree some distance away, listening. Dream was getting frustrated. Tommy was angry. He looked out from behind the tree, watching the scene. Dream had a long, forest green cloak on, the hood up. From this angle, Techno couldn’t see his face, but his gestures said all Techno needed to know. Whatever cool collectedness he was trying to project was fading quickly. Tommy, on the other hand, looked furious. There was a rage in his posture, and his hands, balled into fists, were glowing. He growled something, voice low and dangerous, and that appeared to be the last straw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine!” Dream said, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine, stay with them! But when they leave, </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>say I didn’t warn you.” He sighed, making a quick, dismissive motion. His words were full of venom, sharp enough to make Techno wince. “You’ll know where to find me. I’ll be waiting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine!” Tommy shouted back, “I will. I </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>stay with them!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream tsked; Techno could hear the eyeroll in his tone. Then, he turned. He turned, cloak swishing, and looked directly at Technoblade. Walked directly towards towards him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno covered his mouth, pressing his back to the tree. No. This can’t be happening. He waited. He waited for Dream to brush past him. To pull out a sword and pin him to the tree. Stab him like he stabbed Wilbur, leave him to bleed out in the middle of the woods. What was one more near death experience? He couldn’t breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If things hadn’t been crashing around him before, they were now. Of course. Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course </span>
  </em>
  <span>it was Tommy. Techno should have known from the moment he saw him. He should have known from the moment he heard Wilbur’s voice in that valley. He should have known while they were walking. He should have fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>accepted </span>
  </em>
  <span>it, is what he should have done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had taken fucking years, </span>
  <em>
    <span>years, </span>
  </em>
  <span>for Techno to not see that mask when he closed his eyes. Forget the voice haunting him, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>mask </span>
  </em>
  <span>was what stuck. The mask, the last thing he saw before his brothers were taken from him. That crude, etched-in smile, mocking him every step of the way. That’s the face that made him a monster. That’s the mask that made his life hell. He’d almost gotten over it. Ten fucking years, and he’d almost forgotten. And now, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now– </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>What would he tell Phil. What would he tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Would he even </span>
  <em>
    <span>live </span>
  </em>
  <span>that long? Would he see morning? Probably not. Probably not! Again! Near death experience!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Dream never walked past him. Distantly, the echo of a chuckle on the breeze, and the smell of smoke. Tommy shouted in rage and stomped away. The bark of the tree scraped Techno’s back as he sank to the ground, his hand shaking with the effort to keep himself quiet. He tasted iron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know how long he sat there, but it was getting dark. The fire wouldn’t be able to keep going much longer if he stayed here. He’d get lost. Ranboo and Tommy could get hurt. He had to get up. His arm relaxed, the muscles sore from tension. He’d have imprints from the bark on his back. Maybe even a new scar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hair snagged in a knot in the bark as he stood, and pain shot up his arm as he steadied himself against the trunk. He looked at his hand, disconnected. Two puncture marks, a smear of blood. Techno licked his lips. His chin was probably covered in it. He’d have to wash up before heading back to camp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If his feet dragged on the way back, no one was around to see it. If the water from the stream couldn’t shock him awake, maybe a good night’s rest would. If he was quiet when he returned, and dismissive when asked, it was in character. If he could see the vague outline of his older brother as he fell asleep, it was a dream. And if he dreamed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a nightmare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The morning came uneventfully. Techno woke as the sun rose, the sky turning from orange to pink to day-bright blue. It was time to get moving. Today was the festival, after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, get up,” he said, nudging Ranboo with his foot. The kid groaned in complaint, rubbing his eyes, but started to sit up. Techno picked up a fallen branch, poking Tommy in the side. The boy swatted at it, rolling away. Techno poked him again. “You too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They packed quickly, the fire long extinguished by the morning dew. Travel rations would have to do for breakfast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not too far from the city,” he said, gathering the last of his things. The boys looked groggy, but ready to leave. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nearly home, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he reminded himself, as they made their way through the forest. It was a beautiful day, clear, excellent for a celebration. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Excellent for a homecoming. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were nearly home. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>techno's part of the chapter was admittedly written first. we love a good angst scene. just you wait til chapter 7, that shits gonna be juicy.</p><p>ranboo's ender speak says "gods, this was worse than the last time" also dream was SO slimy to write eugh i hate that guy. this is probably gonna be crumb's only cameo bc plot but all of ranboo's other friends will be appearing next time. they/them eret rights.</p><p>we are still very much working on this! life just has been tending to get in the way lol. college amirite. semester's gettin hectic so the next chapter may take a while. shout out to every dsmp fic writer updating today. hbd mr innit the writers needed a reason 2 post. anyway! thank you so much for reading, and as always your comments/kudos/support means the world! &lt;3333 </p><p>next time: its festival day babey!!!!!!</p><p>edit: chapter's gonna be a little late fellas, term's coming to an end and we are SWAMPED. also, it's gonna be a long one, by the looks ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. And It's Like The Sky Is New</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A lovely day for a festival. A liar tells the truth. A kid gets to be a kid. A prince makes an announcement. A lantern is lit.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>fellas. we've made it. the festival. i promise that nothing bad is happening at this festival. there WILL be a little ghostbur angst, but thats IT. i PROMISE. a longer one to make up for our absence :D this chapter is 9.5k of celebratory fun times and that is a promise. title from i see the light.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hood up, head down, posture bad. Stick behind Techno and don’t look at anyone. Don’t meet the guards’ eyes. Don’t meet </span>
  <em>
    <span>anyone’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>eyes, actually, that would be preferred. Techno could get them through easy, but Ranboo couldn’t help but worry. Someone could look at him too closely. Someone could pull down his hood. Tommy could say his name. That would be a disaster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was starting to freak out. Only a little.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy stared at the buildings with wide eyes, not bothering to hide his wonder. He looked this way and that, at the kids skipping rope, and the fiddlers playing music in the square, and the baker with the fresh bread exiting her shop, and at the mosaics lining the walls near the temple in the corner. He kept looking to where Ranboo assumed Ghostbur was floating, asking questions under his breath. Ranboo couldn’t hear the answers, but they were clearly enough for Tommy. Techno huffed and rolled his eyes, eventually stopping at the fountain in the center of the square.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kid,” he said, only giving Ranboo a sidelong glance, “Wanna talk to you. Alone.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Uh oh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About what?” he replied, trying to keep the nervous laugh out of his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, about what?” Tommy crossed his arms, leaning his weight on one hip. “Why’s it so important you’re alone?” Techno shot him a dirty look; Tommy sneered back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s none of your business.” He turned back to Ranboo, who was definitely not slightly freaking out. “It’s nothin' bad. Don’t gimme that look. You’re not in trouble.” Oh. Oh! Good. Ranboo let out the breath he was definitely not holding, making Techno chuckle. He lightly tapped his knuckles against Ranboo’s shoulder, nodding towards an alcove off to the side. “Over there, it’ll be quick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And now you’re just stealing him?” Tommy protested, making a face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll only be gone for a moment,” Ranboo said, nerves still on alert. He glanced at the space beside Tommy. “Will you two, uh, be alright?” Tommy grumbled to himself, eventually nodding. He sat down on the edge of the fountain, wonder barely concealed by his fake surliness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>guess.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll be right back! Just give us a moment.” Ranboo gave him one last smile, before turning to follow Techno. The alcove was between to buildings, mostly hidden from the rest of the square. It was cooler, out of the direct summer sun, and if he didn’t know better, Ranboo would almost be intimidated by the slightly hulking figure of Technoblade in his hood, standing in the shadows. No, he was intimidated for other reasons. “So, uh.” He wrang his hands, looking everywhere but Techno’s face. The stolen compass weighed heavy in his pocket. “What’s up?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m goin’ back to the castle. Got preparations to make. Which means I won’t be able to keep you two out of trouble.” Oh. Huh. Not what Ranboo was expecting. “So, what I’m sayin’ is, stay safe, and keep him–” He motioned out at the square with his chin. “–safe, too. I’ll try to find you after the ceremony. We can meet back here or somethin’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, Techno, it almost sounds like you’re gonna be worried about us.” Techno snorted quietly, rolling his eyes again. Good! Good, situation defused. No problem, not one. “ But, uh– of course. I’ll do my best. Keep my head down and not steal anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d better not, I saw at </span>
  <em>
    <span>least </span>
  </em>
  <span>four wanted posters for some thief called </span>
  <em>
    <span>Rainbow </span>
  </em>
  <span>on the way here.” Ranboo tensed, eyes wide. He needed to hand over the compass. “I heard he’s real dangerous. Most wanted man in the kingdom, right now, he stole somethin’ real important.” Techno huffed, leaning out enough so that he could see Tommy. Ranboo leaned out, too; Tommy was still where they left him, a child standing on the bench beside him trying to braid a flower into his slightly too-short hair. “Not that you can exactly help it. He’s still got the thing hostage.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo was silent. Techno turned back to him, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A-about that.” Techno was now raising both eyebrows, looking at Ranboo over the rims of his wireframe glasses. The teen fidgeted, avoiding his gaze. He reached into his pocket, removing the compass he had stolen less than thirty-six hours before. He heard Techno sharply breathe in, still not looking at him. “He, uh. He gave it back? He didn’t mean to. But he gave it back. And– and, y’know, I didn’t think– he just sort of– gave it to me? By accident?” Techno was still giving him that skeptical look. “And– I mean, I wasn’t gonna– I wasn’t just gonna– we still had to finish his quest, right? I- I’m rambling, ignore all this, just–” He thrust his hand out, holding the compass for Techno to take. “I- I mean, we haven’t found the other one, but it’s not like– I mean, we both knew that I didn’t really– and I’m such a terrible liar, but–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno plucked the compass from his shaking hand, examining it. The pewter shined a dull purple-blue. The glass was unscratched. The needle pointed towards the castle, slowly moving now that they were closer to the younger prince’s location. He took a deep breath, nodding and sighing. He tucked the compass into a pocket, getting Ranboo’s attention again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you were just tryin’ to get outta trouble.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gods, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ranboo was that bad of a liar. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>needed to work on that. “Again. I’m not mad. I was disappointed, but now I’m not. ‘M proud of you, kid. Doin’ the right thing.” Ranboo laughed weakly, and Techno put a solid hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna bring this back to Tubbo. Kid’s probably worried sick. And–” Techno breathed out a chuckle. “–you fulfilled the fake promise anyway. Haven’t seen the compass yet, but…” He glanced towards the square again. “Well. You saw what happened in the cave.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took Ranboo a second to process his words. He saw what happened in the cave, alright. The fire powers, the glowing hair, the way they were both perfectly dry when he let go of Ranboo’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He can heal, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. Never knew that.” His hand dropped from Ranboo’s shoulder. “Makes sense, I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How did you figure it out?” Ranboo couldn’t stop himself, covering his mouth with a hand a moment later. “I- I mean–” Techno held up a hand, shaking his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew from the moment I saw him. Just refused to let myself know.” He cleared his throat, ignoring the teen’s wide-eyed stare. “Aaaanyway,” he said, hooking his thumbs in his pockets, “Good talk. Keep yourself safe, and keep him safe, too. I’ll let Phil and the guards know you’re no longer wanted for treason.” Ranboo started at that, shocked. Techno laughed, the sound higher and lighter than his voice normally was. “Don’t worry about it, your misspelled name will by cleared by morning. I’ll meet you out by this fountain after the ceremony at ten.” He started to leave, crossing into the sunlight again. He paused, glancing back. “And, Ranboo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno walked back into the square, towards the fountain. Ranboo watched him for a second, stunned, and hurried to catch up. They approached as Tommy finished tying a ribbon at the end of a child’s finished braid; the kid who had been braiding his hair earlier clapped her small hands, giving him a sunny grin. She taught him well. Both kids scampered off, waving over their shoulders as Ranboo and Techno walked up. Tommy waved back, smiling down at the flower in his hands. He looked up, standing as they got to the fountain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything good?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just peachy,” Techno said, glancing back to Ranboo for confirmation, “I have to go back to the castle for festival preparations. I’ll meet you here later tonight, after the lantern ceremony is over. Got it?” Tommy nodded, and Techno hummed. “Great. Don’t get arrested. I’m not responsible for you if you do.” Ranboo snorted; he’d heard that countless times. Techno never meant it. “Alright. Bye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And as abruptly as he did most everything else, Techno turned and walked off. He vanished into the crowd, leaving Ranboo and Tommy standing there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What now, big man?” Tommy asked after a moment, the flower still braided into the side of his hair. It was impressive. “When’s the lanterns? Ghostbur’s getting anxious.” Ranboo glanced at Ghostbur, now semi-visible, who made a face. Not an anxious one, that’s for sure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everyone usually heads out by eight, when the sun’s going down.” It was barely noon. They had time. Tommy frowned. “But!” Ranboo said, “I can give you a tour. Show you the sights. Maybe we’ll run into some of my friends. I mean, it’s a festival day. There’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>always </span>
  </em>
  <span>something to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then lead the way, my friend.” Tommy grinned at him, and even through his lingering anxiety, Ranboo grinned back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now all he had to do was remember what the best sights were.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>“It is with great honor– It is with– great honor that I announce– fuck.” Tubbo huffed in frustration, letting his forehead rest against the balcony door frame. He had been at this since sunrise. It was half past noon. He’d read the words from the cards. He’d memorized them. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>them, but he couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>say </span>
  </em>
  <span>them. That would make them real. It was a nice day, warm breeze, not too hot. Perfect for a festival. Perfect for sailing. Maybe he could get one of those boats and sail off. He wasn’t too bad at sailing! It might be fun. Tubbo tapped his head against the frame with every word. “It. Is. With. Great. Honor. That. I. Announce. That. Once. I–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re gonna give yourself a headache if you keep doin’ that, y’know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo perked up, turning around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was back. He was back. He wasn’t dead. Tubbo wouldn’t admit to catastrophizing, he hadn’t been catastrophizing, what do you mean? He was perfectly fine, and relieved a perfectly normal amount to see his older brother alive and not dead right now. Technoblade was leaning against the door to Tubbo’s rooms, arms crossed, posture perfectly casual for how stressed the younger felt. There was definitely something wrong with Techno, though, little things that Tubbo couldn’t ignore. One of his hands was bandaged. There was blood in his tusks, around the points. His glasses were different than the ones he left in yesterday. Techno pushed off the wall, pulling something from his pocket with his non-bandaged hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Catch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tossed it his way, the grey-blue-purple thing catching in the light. Tubbo caught it, taking a look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You found it?” It was his compass, the one that pointed to him. Hadn’t- hadn’t it been stolen just yesterday morning? Hadn’t it been taken by the most notorious thief in the land? And Techno just… got it back? “How?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno made a face, considering his answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want the real answer, or do you want me to make something up?” Tubbo laughed, surprising himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make something up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, uh… Hm.” Techno crossed the room, taking a seat on the desk. “So, I chased him through the city, right? And he was in the thieves’ guild, so he went into their safehouses and escaped through the sewers. But, since </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the </span>
  <em>
    <span>mercenaries’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>guild, they let me through.” Well. Techno </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the mercenaries’ guild. Maybe he could be telling the truth. “He escaped out of the city that way, and I chased him all the way to this abandoned quarry in the middle of the woods. The cliff was </span>
  <em>
    <span>covered </span>
  </em>
  <span>in ivy, and he climbed up the side, so I had to climb after him. And when we got to the top, we found a house.” Techno started to get into it, gesturing with his hands. “And inside the house, there was this kid, right? Sorcerer’s apprentice, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>steals the compass away from the thief and runs away.” Tubbo gave him a skeptical look, but Techno kept going. “The apprentice kid didn’t run or anythin', nah, he took a </span>
  <em>
    <span>magic broomstick </span>
  </em>
  <span>from the wall and flew off, so me and the thief </span>
  <em>
    <span>both </span>
  </em>
  <span>had to chase him. And for some reason, he went to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Niki’s, </span>
  </em>
  <span>of all places.” Tubbo laughed; Techno leaned forward, eyes growing serious. “But here’s where it gets intense. The crazy part of the story. We get into Niki’s, and the sorcerer kid opens up a hole in the wall and there’s this </span>
  <em>
    <span>tunnel. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You heard about the flood yesterday, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think so? Phil mentioned it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>there,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Techno said, shifting into spooky storyteller mode, “We got into where the dam is, and the sorcerer kid burned the gate, and we all wound up in a caved-in tunnel. I saw my life flashin' before my eyes, but with a little quick thinkin', I was able to use my super strength to move the rocks and get us all out of there. And the thief was so relieved that he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>gave </span>
  </em>
  <span>me the compass back. Owes me his life, now. The sorcerer kid went home at that point. And now I’m here.” He sat back, done with his tale. Tubbo laughed; his anxiety was definitely lifted, at least about the compass. “Would you believe me if I said it was all true?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Absolutely not.” His older brother grinned; it was the most relaxed Tubbo had seen him in forever. Years, maybe. The bandaged hand and dried blood on his tusks indicated that something wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>entirely </span>
  </em>
  <span>right, that there could be other things he was stressed out about, but at this very moment, Technoblade was the picture of casual princeliness. “How did you really do it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He gave it back. That’s it.” Techno adjusted his glasses, before glancing at his nails, affecting disinterest. “He’s a good kid. I think you’d be friends.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo blinked, trying to process the statement. He’d be friends… with the guy who stole one of the most prized artifacts in the country. Techno did </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> the guy, maybe it would make sense?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Weren’t you the one who brought him into the castle in the first place?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep.” Techno snorted, almost fond. “But, y’know. The kid’s sorry and won’t do it again.” Kid. He kept saying </span>
  <em>
    <span>kid. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tubbo didn’t know what he’d do with that information, but he filed it away nonetheless. Techno hopped off the desk, dusting himself off and glancing towards the door. “I gotta tell Phil that the search is off. And for no one to arrest him. Y’know, the usual.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I go with you?” Tubbo blurted, before freezing in place. Techno was going to think he was such a bother now. Always wanting to tag along, stupid little brother things. He was supposed to be collected, he was going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>king. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“I- I mean, I don’t have to, but–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t see why not.” He blinked. Techno stretched, cracked his neck, and headed for the door. He turned back to Tubbo, one eyebrow raised. “You comin’?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“R-right! Yes!” Tubbo jumped up quickly, hurrying to follow his brother into the hall. Techno snorted quietly, casual as he strolled. Sunlight streamed through the high windows; outside, the sea glittered. He still wanted to run. He’d want to run either way. He wouldn’t have to take the throne for another, what, ten years? Fifteen years? Ten to fifteen years of learning to rule, of being trapped in stuffy room with people taking notes, watching his every move, what a </span>
  <em>
    <span>nightmare. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He paused at a window, staring at the ocean. It would be so easy. Beside him, Techno hummed, snapping him out of his thoughts. He sighed shakily, continuing to walk. “Sorry,” he said, “Lot of things on my mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Big day,” Techno agreed, sticking his hands in his pockets, “Big announcement.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Big announcement.” Was this how Techno felt? Was this why he hadn’t accepted the crown? The pressure of it all, the stress. Maybe that nonsense he’d said about taking the throne after, what, his revenge quest was over? Maybe that was the way to go. Maybe he was right. He took a deep breath. “Techno, I don’t think I can–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take the crown?” he interrupted, arching an eyebrow, “Of course you can’t. You’re sixteen. You’ve got a long way to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But, the announcement–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo.” He stopped, turning to face him. Tubbo didn’t want to meet his eye. “Look, I–” Techno chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t wanna give you false hope, alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Alright?” Tubbo did not know where he was going with this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So–” Techno made a face, like he was struggling to find the words. “What I’m tryin’ to say is–” He huffed, pushing up his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not– makin’ any promises. I don’t wanna make a promise I can’t keep. But what I’m sayin’ is… you might not. Have to worry about this for too long.” Tubbo frowned. What? Might not have to– Techno kept going. “And- and even if you did.” Another chuckle. “You’d be great at it. You know that, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d be great, kid.” Without warning, Techno pulled him in for a side hug, ruffling his hair. Tubbo yelped, but didn’t pull away. It was… nice. The reassurance. Techno squeezed him closer for a half-second. Acknowledgement. He remembered that night better than Tubbo ever would, but here they were. They were in it together. Tubbo squeezed back, and Techno let him go. “Don’t sweat it too hard, is all I’m sayin’,” he said. He gave Tubbo a crooked grin, and Tubbo almost believed him. Techno nodded down the hall. “C’mon. I bet Phil’s waitin’ for us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil wasn’t waiting for them, not really. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>in his office, though, which Tubbo considered a miracle. Being the king must be hectic enough, not to mention it being one of the most important celebrations in the kingdom. They entered the room just as a messenger was leaving, and there, rubbing his eyes in pure planning stress, was Phil. Would Tubbo look like that someday? That stressed, that tired? Gods, he could barely think past tonight, he couldn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>start </span>
  </em>
  <span>to imagine ruling for as long as Phil had. Techno coughed awkwardly; Phil startled, looking up sharply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, shit–” He stood quickly, shuffling the scattered papers on his desk into a more neat pile. Actually, yeah, Tubbo could see himself being like this. A bit of a disaster, but trying to appear put together. That was a bit of a trend, Tubbo was noticing, with his family. People who were doing their best but were disasters underneath. “Techno– you’re back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, uh–” Techno cleared his throat, glancing around briefly and shifting in place. “Yeah. I’m back. I–” He coughed again, unable to meet Phil’s eye. “I caught the, uh. The guy who stole the compass.” To back him up, Tubbo held up the compass. Phil was speechless, a look of momentary conflict passing over his face. “Got it back. So you can, y’know. Tell the guards that it’s under control and the compass is back. So there’s no need to, uh. Go after him anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil looked from Techno to the papers on his desk to the compass in Tubbo’s hand, and back to his eldest son.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno…” he said slowly, “Are you… sure? Are you sure it’s a good idea to let him run around like that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” Tubbo hadn’t heard Techno ever say anything with more conviction. “I’m sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He… he </span>
  <em>
    <span>stole </span>
  </em>
  <span>something that could have gotten Tubbo killed. That’s very nearly treason.” Phil met Tubbo’s eye, looking for confirmation, before glancing back to Techno. “...You know that, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I– yes. Yes, I know.” Techno made a sound in frustration and raked his good hand through his hair, visibly holding himself back from fidgeting. Tubbo knew his tells by this point: when he was nervous, when he was lying, when he was telling the truth. And right now? “He’s– he didn’t mean it. He wasn’t thinking of long term consequences.” He cracked his knuckles one at a time, wincing as pressure was put on his palm. The injury was on his palm, whatever it was. “He’s a good kid. Doesn’t deserve to d– to get locked up.” The punishment for treason was much higher than that. They all knew it. “The thing’s returned. No harm done. He’s a good kid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the truth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment, Philza sighed, nodding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” he said, scrawling something on a stray piece of paper, “I’ll get the word out.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Tubbo turned to leave, but Techno didn’t move. He stayed in place, still wringing his hands, shifting back and forth on his feet. He glanced from Phil to Tubbo and back to their father. “Uh.” Phil raised an eyebrow. He must have a lot to do. Preparations to make. Tubbo had preparations to make, too. “Can…” Techno started, hesitant, “Can I talk to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil’s eyes widened and he started to stand; Tubbo knew when he wasn’t supposed to be part of a conversation. He excused himself quietly, letting himself breathe once he was back in the hall. Techno’s anxiety could be infectious; he hadn’t even realized. The hallway stretched out in front of Tubbo. Behind the door, muffled conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he could spend the day in town. Sneak out and forget about his troubles until later. He wasn’t needed anywhere until six. That was, what, five hours of free time? They wouldn’t miss him too badly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a decisive nod, Tubbo started back to his quarters. It was a day of celebration. He was going to celebrate, damn it. He was going to be some normal kid. He was going to let himself have fun. He could go back to being a prince at six. For now? He was just going to be a kid.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>The city was everything Tommy had wanted to see and more. It looked how he remembered it, the vague images from his memory made real. Stone walls, towers, a blue sky, little flags hanging between the buildings and over the streets. Everything is cornflower and azure and yellow and white and stone-tan and, shit, Tommy had thought the</span>
  <em>
    <span> tavern </span>
  </em>
  <span>was amazing? It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing </span>
  </em>
  <span>compared to the city. Everything was alive with movement and color and sound and </span>
  <em>
    <span>people, </span>
  </em>
  <span>fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>people, </span>
  </em>
  <span>there were </span>
  <em>
    <span>people </span>
  </em>
  <span>and they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>celebrating </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Tommy wanted nothing more than to celebrate with them. He had never wanted anything more, he had never known it before but this, </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>was what he had been wanting. This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>life. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo led him and Ghostbur through the city, occasionally ducking into alleyways to avoid any people in pale blue uniforms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Guards,” he explained the first time, checking that the coast was clear, his grin apologetic, “Don’t want to take my chances with the ones I don’t know, y’know?” Tommy did not, but nodded anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The air here was different. The sunlight was warmer, the shadows cooler, the colors brighter and the sounds louder. Tommy’s wonder was barely concealed, his eyes wide as they walked. He was staring at every little thing that caught his eyes – a mosaic here, a fountain there, a particularly pretty basket of flowers hanging above a door, an outdoor demonstration being given by a glassblower. Ghostbur was nearly the same, his eyes sparkling with delight at everything he recognized. He pointed them out to Tommy, voice clear among the city chatter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That bakery, that was my favorite and– </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh! </span>
  </em>
  <span>That house, I always wanted to live in that house, I never understood why my dad said I couldn’t, but, you know, that’s being a child for you, isn’t it? I understood as I got older, of course, but when I was, what, seven? That was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>picture </span>
  </em>
  <span>of perfect living. We might see him, you know. If we run into him, I’ll tell you. Okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo had ducked into another alleyway, a guard coming around a corner as they were approaching a stall. This one appeared to be handing out pamphlets about today’s celebrations. Tommy took one, barely looking at the cover, absentmindedly skimming the text inside. Ten year anniversary, loss of life, continued hope, celebration of life and memory, maybe one day the youngest prince would find his way home. It seemed a little over the top, in Tommy’s opinion, but the story seemed to be selling well enough. Techno had mentioned having a little brother who had gone missing. He was convinced they’d never find him. Whoever wrote this pamphlet clearly did. There was an illustration inside the pamphlet, an illustration of the royals, but Tommy barely paid it any mind. He gave the stallkeeper a copper piece, putting the pamphlet in his pocket as Ranboo returned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His trinkets from the day started accumulating: a colorful marble from the glassblower’s stand, a button in the shape of a sun from the jewelry smith, a dark green bandana with a bee embroidered in the corner from the tailor’s shop, a small phial of glowing, golden nectar from the apothecary’s stall, said to be distilled from the petals of a Sundrop flower.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She wasn’t lying,” Ghostbur said, as Tommy turned the corked bottle over in his hand. There was something familiar about it, Tommy couldn’t place why. They had circled back to the bakery Ghostbur had mentioned being his favorite. Ranboo had run in to grab them something; they were waiting in an archway a few doors down. Ghostbur tapped the glass with a finger. “I was there when we found the Sundrop. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>a </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sundrop, </span>
  <em>
    <span>the </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sundrop. It can heal any ailment, I saw it happen. The petals can be brewed into a broth, and we were able to save the seeds to replant later.” He smiled at the phial fondly, sighing. “It was winter, I think. My mum and brother got sick, so I went out and found it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The phial was barely the size of Tommy’s palm, sending light glittering across his skin. It had been pricy, but Ghostbur had insisted he buy it. Ghostbur had been a knight, hadn’t he? He must have been important, for him to go out and find some super important magic flower to save his family.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did it work?” Tommy asked, slipping the phial into a safe pocket in his bag.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Ghostbur says without hesitating, “It cured my brother immediately.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And your mum?” The ghost frowned, thinking for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I… I don’t know.” Tommy shifted awkwardly, looking towards the bakery. Where was Ranboo? He should be back by now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beside him, Ghostbur gasped, grabbing his sleeve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy, look!” Tommy followed where Ghostbur was pointing; on the other side of the street, a young man with fox ears was chatting with a group of off-duty guards. “It’s Fundy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The young man - Fundy, apparently – was wearing a different uniform from the other guards. His jacket was black instead of pale blue, and he had a black cap to match. The rest of the group – a woman with ram horns and a ponytail of curly white hair, a tall person wearing tinted glasses, and a man with greenish scales under his dark eyes – were all in royal standard. Tommy wondered what that meant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My page, Fundy! One of the people Ranboo was talking about!” Tommy studied the young man closely, something feeling familiar about him. Was it just Ranboo’s description? There was a small sketch of him in the notebook. But, no, it was… more than that. “Oh, I wonder if he remembers me. Do you think he does, Tommy?” Tommy frowned, looking at Ghostbur.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wil, isn’t he…” Gods, he really didn’t want to put a damper on the spirit’s enthusiasm, but– “Isn’t he a little old to be a page? He almost looks your age.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? What are you talking about?” Ghostbur cocked his head to the side, expression earnestly confused. “Last I checked, Tommy, Fundy was nine.” Okay, now that didn’t seem right. Tommy looked from his companion to the young man on the other side of the street a few times.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ghostbur,” he started, struggling to find the right words, “I– I don’t know how to tell you this, but he is very clearly </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>nine years old. He’s got a little goatee thing goin’ on, and is looks almost as tall as me. I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>not that tall when I was nine, Wil.” Ghostbur started to look closer, smile starting to fade. “And didn’t Ranboo say Fundy was trained by someone called Aret or something?” The ghost nodded slowly; across the way, the person in the dark glasses laughed at something the woman said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eret, yeah…” Ghostbur said, pointing, “That’s them. In the glasses. But that’s…” He made a frustrated noise, wringing his hands. “That’s not </span>
  <em>
    <span>right, </span>
  </em>
  <span>they’re supposed to be Techno’s age!” That didn’t seem inaccurate to Tommy; Eret looked about the same age as Technoblade, even if Tommy wasn’t the best at determining that kind of thing. Ghostbur died recently, Tommy was starting to realize. This wasn’t the wishful thinking of someone who died forever ago. This was fresh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wil…” he said slowly, “How old is Technoblade supposed to be?” Ghostbur looked at him like it was a stupid question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fourteen.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy grimaced.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And how old are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Twenty-one, nearly twenty-two.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno’s words from the cave echo in his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m older now than my brother was when he died. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Was… was Ghostbur Techno’s brother? Was Ghostbur a prince? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Was this festival for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ghostbur, I–” Tommy reached for the pamphlet in his pocket; he’d skimmed over the names, maybe–</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!” Ranboo ran up, holding two pastries. He stopped in front of the arch, smile apologetic once more. “Sorry about the wait, the bakery was </span>
  <em>
    <span>packed. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The pastries must be super good, especially if they were Ghostbur’s favorite. Right, Ghostbur?” Ghostbur was still staring at the group of guards.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wil?” Tommy put his hand on the ghost’s shoulder, finding him surprisingly solid. “Wilbur, are you–” Ghostbur whirled around, grabbing Tommy’s wrist. His eyes blazed cobalt, a blue stain blooming on his sweater.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>call me that,” he said fiercely; Tommy froze, breath catching in his chest. He hadn’t even realized that– “I’m– I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>him,</span>
  </em>
  <span> I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>be him, he’s–” The hand around Tommy’s wrist went slack, dropping back to Ghostbur’s side. Blue dripped from his finger tips and stained the skin on Tommy’s arm. Ghostbur swallowed, fight gone from his voice. “He’s dead. I–” He glanced at the group of guards, who were starting to disperse. Eret caught Fundy in a side-hug and stole his cap, ruffling his hair. Fundy laughed and swatted at their hands, snagging his cap back. He pulled away, waving to the group as he jogged away. “I’ll be back. Need a little time to think.” Before Tommy or Ranboo could stop him, he vanished.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A beat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...What was that all about?” Ranboo asked. The blue faded from Tommy’s wrist, ethereal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I might know who he used to be.” Tommy sighed, turning to the taller boy. “He’ll be alright. Just needs a little space, I think. Overwhelmed n’ shit.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo handed him the pastry, some kind of flaky, buttery thing with chocolate in the middle. It was probably the best thing Tommy had ever tasted. He finished it quickly, the sugar hitting his bloodstream immediately. Oh, hell yes, that’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>better. There was still a celebration going on. Ghostbur would be back. Things would be okay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright!” he said, bouncing slightly on his heels, “Where to next?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo led as they wound their way through the city. Their destination, as it turned out, was another square, a little more run down but </span>
  <em>
    <span>full </span>
  </em>
  <span>of color. And it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>full </span>
  </em>
  <span>of kids, teenagers and children and preteens all running around, playing games and talking. Tommy had never seen this many people his own age, it was almost dizzying. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon!” Ranboo said, grinning and pulling Tommy by the wrist. It wasn’t like how Ghostbur had done it. It was friendly, and Tommy couldn’t help but smile back. The center of the square was covered in chalk, kids and teens creating the most beautiful masterpieces Tommy had ever seen. Everything in this city was beautiful; he was discovering something new every minute. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy snagged a free piece of chalk, starting to draw like everyone around him. He wasn’t particularly </span>
  <em>
    <span>good, </span>
  </em>
  <span>but that didn’t matter on a day like today. He heard somebody call something about a rainbow and looked up just in time to see a piece of green chalk hit Ranboo directly in the forehead. The culprit, a girl in a calico cat mask, laughed from a shaded corner of the square. Ranboo rubbed the mark away, sticking his tongue out in the girl’s direction. She laughed louder, and even through how annoyed he tried to look, Tommy could see his smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy stood up a while later, dusting the chalk off his hands. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite </span>
  </em>
  <span>the work of art, if he did say so himself, nowhere else in the square had anyone drawn a better cow. Not that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>could; </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy was simply the best artist there was. Ranboo had gotten up a few minutes ago to speak to the girl in the mask. His drawing, a flower with golden petals, was </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice, </span>
  </em>
  <span>sure, but it wasn’t as good as Tommy’s. Satisfied with his work, Tommy looked around the square. Maybe there would be someone he could talk to, another </span>
  <em>
    <span>peer </span>
  </em>
  <span>to hang out with. He’d never had any of those; perhaps it would be something he’d be good at, hanging out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A little girl asked if he was done with his chalk. He handed it over without question, watching as she ran back to her little group. Standing off to the side, not drawing anything, was a boy. He looked about Tommy’s age, with brown hair and a rumpled green shirt. He was short, Tommy noted. Good. He liked being taller than people. The boy looked up, meeting his eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There it was again. That familiar feeling. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>this kid. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew </span>
  </em>
  <span>him. He started to take a step forward, when–</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. I’ve never seen him before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuckin’ hell, man!” Tommy startled, turning to see Ranboo standing directly behind him. “Need to put a fuckin’ cat bell on you, you bastard.” Ranboo laughed, and Tommy’s surprise and anger faded immediately.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not my fault you weren’t checking your surroundings,” the older teen teased. Tommy shoved him to the side, prompting another laugh. He looked back to where the boy had been standing; he was gone. Tommy was… disappointed? “Who was that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dunno. Looked familiar, though.” He shrugged. “It’s this city, man. Got me all thinkin’ n’ shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What a travesty,” Ranboo said, “The kind of thing we have to remedy immediately. Gods forbid you start </span>
  <em>
    <span>thinking.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>just </span>
  </em>
  <span>saying–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This, talking and laughing and not having to worry, this is what Tommy had been missing. This was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Gods, he’d always wanted friends. Whatever it was he was worried about earlier, it wasn’t important now. There was a celebration going on. He was a kid at a festival with a friend. He’d always known this is what he’d wanted. He’d never wanted anything more.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>In retrospect, “can I talk to you” was probably the worst question Techno could have asked. It was certainly the worst question someone could ask him - it’s too vague, too open-ended. It could mean anything. The last time someone had said that to Techno, he was told that his personality and emotions were too strong for his companions, and that they didn’t want to train with him anymore. He had been, what, seventeen then? Cringe. Cringe all around, really.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo left the room quietly, the door shutting behind him. At the desk, Phil was looking at him expectantly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?” he prompted, eyebrows raised. Techno hadn’t actually thought this far ahead. Shit, where would he start? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey dad, I found your long lost son hiding in the woods. Hey dad, I almost drowned yesterday. Hey dad, that kid who stole a super dangerous artifact is actually really cool, you should let him into the squire program or something. Hey dad, I had a massive fucking panic attack last night because the guy who killed my older brother and cursed me made eye contact while threatening the person I’m certain is my long lost little brother. Hey dad, I’m sorry. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y’know my, uh, quest, right?” Techno said. He reached up to fiddle with an earring. He was starting to regret leaving his rings in his room when he changed the bandage on his hand. Phil’s eyebrows went up further.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about it?” Ohhh gods, Techno felt like a little kid again. He was ten years old and asking Phil if he could go into town, even though his mother had already said no. That was the same tone as the ever-dreaded </span>
  <em>
    <span>what did your mother say, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because it meant he’d have to either lie or tell the truth and face whatever disappointment or consequence comes with it. He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I’ve found a lead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was also probably the worst day to drop this kind of revelation on Phil. It was a vague enough sentence, don’t get him wrong, but the mix of emotions could definitely get to a guy. Ten years and all that. Phil breathed in sharply, looking apprehensive; Techno regretted saying anything at all. He could have just waited. He could have just waited until after the festival and then brought Tommy back. Really, it could have happened, he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do it like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What kind of lead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno knew that tone. That was the strategist’s tone. The tone that won wars. That was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>how many soldiers do I have to send and where</span>
  </em>
  <span> tone. That was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>show them no mercy</span>
  </em>
  <span> tone. Techno knew where. Techno knew who wouldn’t be getting any mercy. He just had to keep this up for a couple days.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The dam that broke,” he said, not looking at Phil directly, “I heard some reports about the culprit.” He technically wasn’t lying. “They said there was a kid, a teenage boy, who lit the supports on fire with his bare hands. Said it looked like an accident.” After Tommy had gotten better, they started noticing weird things about him. He would sneeze sparks on occasion. His hair would start to glow if he focused too hard. He had a tendency to leave scorch marks on anything made of wood - tiny handprints where only a three-year-old would reasonably reach. Phil looked skeptical. Any teenage boy could have fire powers. Techno cleared his throat. “And– they said his hair was glowin’. Gold. Kid was blond.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What he doesn’t say is that the kid also has Phil’s eyes and their mother’s smile and laughs the same way Wilbur did. He doesn’t say that he may have Wilbur – at least, some kind of phantasmal memory of Wilbur – with him, either. That would be a little much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The, uh–” Unconsciously, Techno pressed his knuckles into his bad palm, pain zipping through his arm. He hissed, shaking his hand out to the side. “–the reports. Said that the kid went back into the woods after that. That he, uh, met up with some- some sorcerer lookin’ guy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do I get the feeling you aren’t telling me everything?” He’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. This is it. This is how he dies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Me? Not tell you everythin’? C’mon, Phil, who do you think I am?” Yep, there it was. The stern look of disapproval. And, yeah, Techno was a terrible liar, but that wasn’t really the point, now, was it? Techno chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. Even over the rim of his glasses, he could see the Look Phil was giving him. Raised eyebrows, pursed lips, unamused expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh huh. Sure.” Phil crossed his arms. Logically, Techno knew two things: one, that his father did not possess magical abilities pertaining to making someone tell the truth; and two, that he was an entire twenty-four years old and should be, by all accounts, impervious to even </span>
  <em>
    <span>considering </span>
  </em>
  <span>that his father would be capable of making him tell the truth through latent magical abilities. And yet, he felt compelled to say more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s some… other stuff,” he started; Phil gestured for him to keep going, “Me an’ Ranboo– we ran into the kid. By accident.” Technically true! “We have a workin’ idea of his location. And–” Okay. Okay. He could do this. He could say it. And definitely wasn’t shaking a little bit. “And–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno. Breathe.” Yeah. Yeah. That was probably a good idea. Deep breath. He was fine. He had his freak out last night. No more of that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘M good. ‘M fine,” he mumbled. Phil scoffed, tension breaking in the room. “I, uh. I should let you go, probably.” Philza hummed, moving back towards his desk. He probably had king stuff to do. Not that Techno particularly knew what that entailed, but–</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he might be finding out soon, won’t he? If everything goes to plan? If he actually completes his stupid quest? Shit, that’s. Techno had a lot to learn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably.” That was his cue. He turned to go, but Phil spoke up again. “Hey, Tech?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil hadn’t called him that in a long, long time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, dad?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take care of yourself, alright?”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>The day passed faster than Tommy ever expected a day to pass. Everything was noise and action and fun and celebration, more than he’d ever expected. He’d celebrated before. He’d seen action before. He’d had fun before. But it was never like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ghostbur returned after a couple hours, looking much better than when he’d left. He was back to his normal, cheery self, and Tommy didn’t have it in him to question why.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sun was setting. The entire city seemed to be moving towards the docks. The air was buzzing with excitement, with chatter and laughter and warmth. Fireflies danced along the beach, hiding in the scrubby grass whenever children drew near. Tommy considered trying to not look as amazed as he felt, but it didn’t feel worth it. No one would be mad at him for being excited. Ranboo certainly wouldn’t – he looked just as excited as Tommy felt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be right back,” he had said a few minutes ago, two-toned eyes shining in the fading light. He took off down the boardwalk, leaving Tommy and Ghostbur to their own business. The water lapped under the docks; Tommy found he quite liked the smell of the sea. It was nice. The sun was a half-circle against the water, deep orange and bathing everything a burning gold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something tapped against the dock. Tommy definitely did not jump at the sound, thank you very much. He was simply transfixed by the sunset, is all. Beside him, Ghostbur turned to see what approached them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Hi Ranboo!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting in a small canoe, the carved prow gently knocking against the dock, was Ranboo. He grinned up at them, rowing closer. There was something on the seat behind him, but when Tommy tried to see, Ranboo leaned in the way, blocking his view.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“C’mon!” He leaned forward, offering Tommy a hand. “It’s almost time for the main event.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tentatively, Tommy took it and stepped down into the boat. Oh, this was weird. What the hell. Getting used to walking on, like, grass and shit was weird enough, but this </span>
  <em>
    <span>moves? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fucked up. He wobbled, almost overbalancing, hand in a death grip around Ranboo’s. Leaning against the column of the prow, he slowly slid into the seat. Ghostbur, the prick, just floated down and sat next to him. Once they were both in, Ranboo started to row back, out towards the bay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you hated water,” Tommy said, pretending like he wasn’t clutching the seat for dear life. It was a great moment to realize he didn’t know how to swim. Could have occurred to him in the cave, but there were other problems there. Right now, it was just him and Ghostbur and Ranboo, three people with questionable relationships to water, alone in a boat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do!” Ranboo chirped, rowing them further away from the docks, “Touching water, specifically. We’ll be fine as long as you don’t throw me overboard.” Well. Okay. That didn’t seem so bad. And they weren’t particularly alone, either.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bay was full of other boats - the smaller ones were closer to the shore, the larger ones farther out. They all had people on them, and all of those people seemed to be waiting for something. It was the same thing all of them were waiting for, wasn’t it? For the main event.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was starting to get dark in earnest. Across the boat, Ranboo cleared his throat. Tommy looked up, and the older teen pulled three paper lanterns out from behind him. Right. Right, the main event. Ghostbur gasped in delight, but all Tommy could feel was… dread. Fear, in the pit of his gut. He took the lantern and stared at it, shifting uncomfortably. Ghostbur was hugging his to his chest, content to sit on the decorated prow above them. Was this real? Was this finally happening?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ready?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I…” Tommy started, looking out across the water. Everyone was celebrating. From one of the larger boats, a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop! </span>
  </em>
  <span>and a cheer from the revelers. He looked back to the lantern in his hands. “...I don’t know.” The paper was so thin under his hands. He could set it on fire with just a thought, too early, and then it would all be over. Ruined. Was he going to ruin it? “I think ‘m scared. Don’t fuckin’ know why, nothin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>to </span>
  </em>
  <span>be scared of, it’s a fuckin’ boat and a lantern, but–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you’re worried it won’t be how you expected it to be.” A spindly hand gently pushed the top of the lantern; Tommy glanced up to see Ranboo smiling. He placed the lantern on the floor of the boat, looking up at his friend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean, I don’t know? I just–” He chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “–I lied? Seeing the lanterns wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> thing. It was his.” He jabbed his thumb back at Ghostbur, who was not paying attention to them whatsoever. “I just wanted to get out of that fuckin’ tower.” Ranboo hummed, and Tommy continued. “I guess I just– wanted to see the world. Prove I could handle myself out here, meet people, make some fr–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That was it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo was his </span>
  <em>
    <span>friend. That’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>what was making today happen. He was with a friend, he was having fun with a friend, and that friend got a little boat and three paper lanterns so that they could all experience the festival’s finale </span>
  <em>
    <span>together. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tommy sat up straight, pulling the compass out from around his neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you to hold onto this,” he said, holding the compass out. Ranboo took it carefully, holding the compass like it was precious. “To prove something. And to– y’know. Say thank you. And that I, uh. Trust you.” Ranboo traced the surface of the glass with a finger, flipped it over in his hands, studied the words on the back. His eyes were the size of dinner plates, wide in amazement. Tommy’s words came out in a rush. “Because this- this whole thing started with that other one and I accidentally gave it back to you, but you– oh, gods, I don’t know how to say this– you. You didn’t run off?” Ranboo quirked an eyebrow at him. “Just- just– you </span>
  <em>
    <span>know, </span>
  </em>
  <span>because that was why you were escorting me in the first place, I had that thing you wanted, you wanted it back, I’d give it back once I was home, all that, but–” He paused to take a breath, definitely not embarrassed or anything. “But you didn’t leave when I gave you it by accident, and I- I know you won’t leave now that I’ve given you this one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy…” Ranboo was still turning the compass over and over in his hands, staring in disbelief as the needle pointed to the other boy. “This is…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was the only thing I had from when I still lived here,” Tommy said, gesturing towards the city, “Most valuable possession n’ that. But I- I know if I let you hold onto it, you’re not gonna run off or some shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You- you know what this is, right?” Ranboo said, “You know what this means?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S’ a magic compass that points to me.” Tommy shrugged. “Means you’re my friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy, this is–”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>Dressed up, and no one was even going to see them. Techno had his hair washed and tugged and braided, his broken glasses repaired, his hand healed. His dress blues were stiff; he hadn’t been around for a fancy occasion in a long, long time. Tubbo arrived at six-fifteen. He had been conspicuously missing for most of the day.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have fun out there?” Techno had asked, catching Tubbo trying to sneak in wearing what was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>his commoner disguise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I–” Tubbo had frozen, looking like a deer in headlights. Techno put his hands up, meaning no harm. After a moment, the kid sighed, allowing himself a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I had fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now, they were standing just behind the grand balcony doors, waiting for their cue to go out. The sun was barely a sliver over the horizon. Tubbo stood, stiff as a board, hands behind his back, gazing out at the water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You ready?” Techno said, glancing at his brother.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo swallowed, biting his lip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The doors opened.</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>A chime rang out, magically amplified. The castle balcony lit up like a beacon. A hush fell over the city. It was too far to make out any details, but several figures stepped out. The royals and advisers, presumably. Technoblade was up there. What Tommy wouldn’t give to see him in whatever fancy fuckin’ clothes they made him wear. Apparently, the youngest prince was going to make a speech, according to whatever stuffy old guy they had make the opening remarks. Tommy didn’t catch his name. Something dumb, probably. Whatever it was, it had Ghostbur sitting up straight and paying attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Friends, citizens, visitors.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The prince sounded younger than Tommy was expecting. He almost thought the guy would sound like Techno, deep voice, kind of monotone, but this prince sounded… like a kid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“First, I want to thank you all for coming. It is people like you, all of you, that make this day truly special. Look around you, at what you have and at those around you. Look at all that we have built over the last ten years. It has been an honor to watch this city grow and thrive, and a privilege to grow with it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy took a look around. Yeah. Yeah, he was alright with the people he had. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>an honor to have them around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Today is a day of celebration, but it is also a day of remembrance. We celebrate those we have, and honor those we have lost. We celebrate life, and take time to reflect on those no longer with us. It has been ten years since tragedy struck our kingdom. My eldest brother gave his life to protect me and my twin. The first lantern vigil was held in his memory, though the rest have had a secondary purpose. It has been our hope that one day, these lanterns will guide my twin home. Each year, we send them up, and each year, we pray that he will return. This year is no different, but we wish the next will be.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last bits of sunlight were fading quickly. The sky was almost completely dark. Ghostbur glowed faintly on the prow, attention rapt. The prince’s tone turned serious, official, and he continued.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As you all know, the loss of our princes threw the kingdom into a period of severe political disorder. With the heir to the throne gone, it became unclear who would take the crown in his stead. After much deliberation, we have come to a decision. Barring certain circumstances, this decision is final. It is with great honor that I announce–" The prince took a deep breath. "It is with great honor that I announce that once I come of age, I will be taking the throne."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A cheer rang out through the kingdom. Tommy looked back at Ranboo, at a loss, but the older teen looked just as shocked. It didn’t seem right, this was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>kid </span>
  </em>
  <span>announcing this. Tommy couldn’t imagine being royalty, much less next in line for a throne. On the balcony, the prince took another breath, releasing it shakily, his tone jubilant again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t lie and say I’m not nervous for it.” He laughed, almost self-consciously. “But, I know that when the time comes, I will do my best to serve you well, just as my father has done before me. I aim to continue this age of peace, and am appreciative of your support in my announcement.” The prince sighed. It was weird, he sounded almost exactly like how Ghostbur did when he was relieved. “In just a moment, we will be releasing the first lantern. I ask you all to join me in this ceremony, and in remembering those we have loved, and those we have lost. May it be the beacon to guide my brothers home. Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Applause. From one of the larger boats, a bell was ringing. Ghostbur was cheering. Tommy clapped along; he could never make a speech like that, shit was impressive. As the noise died down, quiet settled back over the bay. It was dark. It was silent. The moon had risen some time ago, and was now a bright silver against the sky. The light on the balcony went out, and in its stead rose a single, golden lantern. It drifted higher and higher, warm against a backdrop of stars. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, more light. Hundreds of lanterns, golden, glowing, started slowly rising from around the palace like mountain being pushed out of the ground. Tommy’s heart pounded in his chest, his gaze fixed on that first – what had the prince called it? – beacon. Something about this felt… </span>
  <em>
    <span>right. </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Behind him, Ranboo cleared his throat. The other boaters on the water were starting to release their lanterns. Both Tommy and Ghostbur turned; the spirit dropped down from the prow, moving to sit beside them. Ranboo held out his own lantern, offering the wick to Tommy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Care to do the honors?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>love </span>
  </em>
  <span>to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a laugh, Tommy touched the wick of the lantern; it burst into a controlled flame, the paper container taking on a gentle, golden glow. Ghostbur held out his own lantern, and Tommy lit that one as well. He did his own last, watching the flame carefully circle the wick. He didn’t set the whole thing on fire. He didn’t burn it all down. They waited as the lanterns started to lift, and let them go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The air was filled with light and laughter and sound and it was the most amazing thing Tommy had ever seen. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be here, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>meant </span>
  </em>
  <span>to see this, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>wanted to go home. He wanted to live in this moment </span>
  <em>
    <span>forever, </span>
  </em>
  <span>to </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>lose this feeling. He wanted to keep the reflection of the lanterns in Ghostbur’s eyes and the sparkle of the light on the water and the surprised, kind of scared but not really way that Ranboo was laughing as Tommy accidentally rocked the boat for </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the shore, a light, cooler than the rest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy’s heart sank as he recognized the figure on the bank, opposite to the docks. Forest green cloak, blending in black against the trees. White mask, bright in the moonlight. A dim, green lantern in one hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The night was suddenly cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Ranboo?” Tommy said, his voice distant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” Ranboo looked over, his eyes big in the dark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you…” Ghostbur still looked so happy. Tommy didn’t want to ruin that. “Can you row us over there?” He pointed to the opposite shore. Dream turned, vanishing into the trees. “Think ‘m startin’ to feel a little seasick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The ceremony’s almost over. We can go back to the docks and meet Techno early, if you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“N-nah.” Tommy needed to get better at lying. It felt so obvious, this lie. “Just for a moment. Need to– get on solid ground for just a moment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Y-yeah, of course,” Ranboo said, sounding genuinely concerned. Tommy appreciated it. Real friends n’ that. “You sure you’re alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“‘M fine,” Tommy mumbled, still staring at the treeline, “Just a little dizzy. Can we go over there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ranboo started to row.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>well! what did i tell you. nothing bad happens during the festival. now, uh. <i>after</i> the festival. that's a whole nother story. </p>
<p>the semester has finished, so hopefully the next chapter will come out a little sooner than this one - coursework got a little hectic at the end, so this one was a tad late. hopefully the longer word count made up for that! admittedly it kind of got away from me, but the outline mandated this only take one chapter lmao. also apparently i lied and we got another crumb cameo.</p>
<p>this is the single longest chapter ive ever written in a work. this chapter is almost half the length of my first longfic. what the hell. </p>
<p>hey! while youre here, check out the other two little oneshots i wrote in the interim!<br/>  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30935723">osmp ficlet of phil doing the void surfing thing</a><br/><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30993839">enderboo having a quick 'chat' with revivedbur post-resurrection</a><br/>as always, let us know what you thought! kudos and comments always make our day :D see you soon! &lt;3</p>
<p>next time: : ) , and whatever you fear that will entail.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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